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One way or another, he was going to be pushing his professional boundaries with his research assistant, but it was so hard to decide which act of boundary-pushing to do. Augustus supposed that he should pick the more lucrative option—so it came down to whether following Yujin or slipping into their empty office would net him more information.

Well—ultimately, whatever Yujin and Feather talked about, he was supposed to get all the details anyway. He could always quiz Feather later and see if Yujin had left anything out. However, he couldn’t easily guarantee finding another good time to check out Yujin’s room without arousing any suspicion. So better to do this one now; if he were fast enough about it, he still might be able to eavesdrop on the tail end of the conversation.

Not if he wasted any more time though; he produced his keys quickly, unlocking Yujin’s door and slipping inside.

Augustus’s first impression of Yujin’s study room, now that he looked around it, was messy. It wasn’t terrible—he hadn’t been much better at that age, and for all he had a several-year-long gap in his memory, he remembered both before and after it fairly well. But Yujin was clearly too busy to bother to keep everything nicely organized in this room, and it showed. It didn’t read to Augustus as if they’d been throwing things around or any similar frenetic activity; there were just too many mugs and plates, too many stacks of paper, crumpled pages that had missed the garbage can.

These he checked first, in case Yujin were disposing of some kind of evidence, but they seemed to be notes on Yujin’s own research, which was primarily about the summoning of human spirits who had moved onto the realm of the dead. It was a very popular field of Conjuration research as it both allowed for the possibility of the permanent movement between planar realms based on certain statuses of being, and also the possibility that the things which returned were not human spirits at all and merely were very good at pretending to be them. But the crumpled garbage papers were half-finished pages on what was clearly their current paper that they were hoping to have published, so Augustus carefully re-crumpled them and deposited them, wincing, outside the garbage bin where he’d found them.

Next, he checked their desk drawers. The first few turned up nothing notable—snack stashes, papers, writing supplies, and so on—but the main center drawer gave him pause. There were magical materials here; spools of copper wire, chunks of quartz, sticks of charcoal and chalk, bundles of herbs. That wasn’t theoretically unusual for a research assistant to have access to. However, since the research assistants didn’t have individual workrooms, they had a public workroom that they shared, with materials stocked in it by the university itself. They shouldn’t be taking it out of the workroom, as their study rooms were nowhere near as well warded. Augustus wouldn’t attempt most practical spells in his office, and that was still better set up than an assistant’s study room. 

  Augustus made note of the materials he found there in case he could cross-reference them for some intended purpose, and shut the drawer carefully again. It jammed a little, so he reached further back and found that, in the gap between the drawer to its right and the back of the desk, a book had been placed. It was invisible when he’d opened those drawers, but it was accessible from this one, and must have shifted as he’d examined the materials.

Very carefully, he extracted the book … only to find that it was one of his: the book about ghosts and possessions from the perspective of material-vs-spiritual analysis. He frowned, putting it down, and began a more thorough investigation of the room.

It made sense for Yujin to have a copy of this, but he was very sure it was his copy; he knew that scratch along the back cover where he’d carelessly left a knife on it a year or two back. It made sense for Yujin to have wanted to borrow it, though why they wouldn’t just ask, he had no idea. If the rest of the books were here, too—

They weren’t, though. Augustus checked under rugs, under chair cushions, behind the rest of the drawers, checked for loose floorboards, and of course searched the shelves. There was only this single book here out of all his missing research. 

Why had so many books been stolen, yet Yujin only had one? Had Yujin taken all of them and somehow since got rid of them, but had decided to keep this one? Had someone planted this here to frame Yujin? Or had Yujin borrowed (or stolen) just this one coincidentally and were worried they were going to be blamed for all the others going missing as well?

Whatever the reason, nothing else seemed out of place or unusual here, minus all the snacks and dishes implying that Yujin’s been surprisingly hungry lately. They were a young adult, though, and he remembered how he‘d eaten in his early twenties. 

Augustus knew he should head out now if he wanted any chance of overhearing the end of Yujin’s conversation. But the real question was: Should he take his stolen book back with him to quietly return it to his shelf, or to confront Yujin with it? Alternatively, should he leave it here? And if he left it here, should he slip it back into its hiding place make it look like nobody had been here, or should he leave it out on the desk to really fuck with Yujin? Or— 

Well. The opportunities were endless.

[What should Augustus do? Comment with details.]

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Best to start by pretending nothing unusual was happening, and slowly turn up the heat. You could boil a frog or damn a soul that way; why wouldn’t it work to get an apparently-stressed professor to talk? “Oh, I’d like to pretend it’s all social, but I was wondering if I could pick your brain about something,” he said cheerfully.

“Pick my brain? I can’t imagine that I have anything that you’d want to know about,” she said, voice tight. “In fact—” 

Augustus tuned out the rapid patter of remonstration. Now that he was thinking about it, Fitzfleming wasn’t the only person who’d been acting odd lately. Olivia Spiders had been unusually late to class, though they’d had an excuse when he’d talked to them. And Yujin had been acting odd too, actually; they were always a little weird—and who wasn’t, at this university—but they were more skittish than usual. It could just be paranoia caused by thinking someone had taken their keys to rob their boss, of course. 

He wondered if other people around the place were acting strange now too, or if they always were and he’d just never noticed it. But it was still odd. Worth thinking about. 

Not now, though; Fitzfleming had fallen silent and was frowning at him. Best to pay attention. “It’s really nothing like that,” he said, to whatever they were saying. “You don’t need to be so strict about it. I know you’re not in our department, but I was wondering if you knew anything about that new professor? Soren Kincaird?”

“Soren Kincaird?” she echoed. “Wouldn’t you know more than I would? You two went to the same university.”

“Did we? I hadn’t heard that,” he said, which was technically not a lie; he was doing great on the technicalities today. “Undergrad?”

“That’s right,” she said. “I would have thought you two might know each other.”

“Conjurations is a big field,” he said, demurring. 

“And I cannot imagine why it’s so popular,” she snapped sharply. “It’s a locked study. There’s nothing more you can discover about conjuring monsters from beyond that wasn’t originally discovered hundreds of years ago. You’re just refining things, and honestly shouldn’t, given the things you work with.”

He nodded. “Right, you just published a paper about that, right? Defining the difference between natural spirits, those belonging to this plane, and the ‘unnatural’ ones from beyond. What was it—ah, yes, Spirits Inherent and Eidolic Idolatry, right? I understand that disagreeing with us is your specialty. I don’t take it personally.”

“Perhaps you should!” she said, tense. But she didn’t look angry; she looked miserable. “The things you do are less than useless, which is why your department funding’s in danger. If you got out and shifted focus to a better area, things would be better for you. At any rate, I barely know Kincaird; I greeted him when he came around to introduce himself; he said he was interested in the spirits of this world as well as those beyond, which is more than I can say for most of your lot.”

He lifted his brows slowly. Time to turn up the heat. “Is everything all right, Ivory?” he asked, softly.

“Wh-what?” That took the air out of her more surely than a blow would have. “What—of course—” 

“You seem very tense. Upset,” he said. “Listen, I know we’ve never been friends, but if you need someone to talk to, I’m happy to be a neutral ear.”

Fitzfleming bit her lower lip, and just like that, he was sure something was wrong for her. She had the look of someone who wanted sympathy but who found it almost an unknown quality when she was receiving it. For a moment, he was sure she was going to open up to him. But she began to harden again almost immediately, though. “I’m fine. Thank you.” But her words were too tense, too airless.

“If you change your mind, I’ll be here,” he said. “I know we all have things going on at home—” She shook her head briefly at that. “Not at home? Is it something here?”

“Enough, Pennywright! I said I’m fine!” she said, an air of desperation to it.

The knife was in, to mix his metaphors; he could twist it and see what way she jumped. “All right, of course. It’s just that I’m not the only one who’s noticed. I’ve heard people talking about it, and I’m worried that something might happen. The students have already noticed; they might take advantage to try to manipulate their grades. Or—well. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there are thieves around recently,” he added, innocently. “I’ve had some things stolen from me. I’m worried similar things might happen to you, if you’re not alert—”

“Get out!” she snapped, half rising behind her desk, slamming her hands down on it. “Get out of my office! I said enough, and if you don’t listen, I’ll have you thrown out!”

He rose, hands raised. “Of course,” he said mildly. “I’m sorry to upset you, Fitzfleming. But keep in mind, I mean you all the best.”

Augustus left before she could actually kick him out, and walked a little ways down the hall to ponder one of the bulletin boards there without seeing it. That was interesting, he decided. He wouldn’t be surprised if she were the one who had taken his research, based on how she’d reacted to him—though why she’d want it at all, he couldn’t say. But she implied something between them was personal. Implied things would be different if he got out of Conjuration. Whether or not she was involved, she knew something.

Then again, he’d thought she was about to open up to him, and something had scared her off from doing so. He wouldn’t expect that if she’d stolen from him out of malice.

Well, he was out of her office far earlier than he expected. He could try to see where she might have stashed his things, if she had done so—it hadn’t seemed to be in the office, though, so he’d need a plan of attack to try to get into her better-protected workroom or her home. 

Then again … the way Yujin had been acting was preying on his mind, now that it had occurred to him. And he knew where Yujin was theoretically off to right now. He could stalk them there and try to listen in on the conversation with Feather St. Saint. Or he could go to Yujin’s office himself while they were out, dig around, see what he could find there. He had the keys, even; it’s just that he’d never had reason to use them.

Perhaps it would be better to just let them be and do something else in the meantime, as he’d originally planned. Find out more about Soren. That would make the most sense for his goals. 

And yet … he’d never been good at resisting temptation.

[What should Augustus do? Comment with details.]

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Well! Augustus thought. Why turn his nose up at such a crime of opportunity as was presenting itself to him right now? The hall was empty, the office was closed and dark, and the fact he’d already asked Olivia after Soren would work in his favor—he’d just have to say he’d gone intending to introduce himself to the man and had found the door unlocked.

He burned a small pocket charm to cast a stored mage eye spell—it was one of the few spells he kept charged in a charm, since the times one most wanted to see the magic in the area around you were often the times you didn’t want to go hunting for ingredients in the moment—and tolerated the brief flash of searing kaleidoscope colors from the magic baked into this school, looking the door over quickly. His own lack of a mundane alarm spell for his office had clearly bit him, and he wasn’t sure if someone else might have anticipated finding a need for one.

The standard wardings that came with the university itself were up, but those only protected from magical teleportation or damage, and he didn’t note anything more custom on the room in the few moments before the spell faded again from his vision. He blinked blurriness away. It seemed safe enough, so long as he was careful not to damage the door.

His lockpicking skills were a little rusty, but while he still wasn’t aware where he had acquired these skills—back in that lost period of his life, he assumed—he had never actually lost the muscle memory. He pulled his wire kit out of his pocket and got to work quickly, positioning his body to block what he was doing and trying to keep his ear out for any arrivals.

Fortunately, this lock was fundamentally similar to his own—he’d have to keep in mind that it was possible that nobody had borrowed Yujin’s keys but instead had the same skills—and he’d broken into his own office many times after locking his keys inside. (Whatever fool had come up with the idea of a door you could lock but still open from the inside only was someone he wanted words with). The lock took a few moments longer than he’d have liked to spend, but he got it open relatively quickly regardless.

Augustus entered and shut the door carefully behind himself—locking it just in case someone tried the handle for their own reasons—and looked around slowly, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkened room. The frosted glass of the window would show if there were a light on in here, so he had to do this without lighting a lamp or opening the curtains. Fortunately, the curtains weren’t blackout-thick, but nevertheless, it was dim.

It would be a real challenge to find a black hair in this lighting, even if Soren had gone out in his shirtsleeves and left a coat or something similar draped over the chair—which of course he hadn’t. Augustus did a quick pass through the area—books on the shelves, though not as many as he himself had (no surprise, given what a recent hire Soren was); an empty coat-rack; a desk with some papers and a mug on it; a chair; an empty trashcan. He did wish that Soren were a messier person.

Augustus considered the papers briefly—handwriting should count as something belonging to someone, assuming this was Soren’s handwriting and not someone else’s research or a missive from a friend—but dismissed it; people were on alert for missing papers thanks to Augustus’s own efforts.

The mug, though, that might be useful. Nobody thought anything of a mug going missing; they’d just assume they absently put it away, or took it to be washed, or left it somewhere unusual. Hopefully it was Soren who had drunk from it, not a student or Feather St. Saint, but its positioning on Soren’s side of the desk was promising.

As he reached for it, his hand brushed what he had initially thought was a smaller book, but realized with surprise was the frame of an ambrotype, laid on its front. He picked it up, eager for whatever information he could glean from it, and had a moment of disappointment when he realized it was just a shot of a class of university students. The first or last class Soren had taught at his last school, perhaps?

As he went to lay it back down, however, Augustus froze, recognizing one of the faces even in the dim lighting.

It was his own.

He had been younger then, maybe in his early or mid twenties, dressed to the nines even then. His hair was overgrown—he recalled that in his younger years of schooling, the teachers had forced him to keep it trimmed. When he’d gone away to university, he’d reacted to the loosening of restrictions in his life by defying those old rules. Even so, his hair was longer than he’d recalled letting it ever get. He was laughing, leaning a little on a student next to him who he could not recognize at all, though there was a nagging sense that he should recognize him. A young man who must be Soren stood on his other side, expression cool and composed, even superior.

For a long moment, he just stood there, tilting the ambrotype this way and that in the hopes of getting better light on it, maybe recognizing more faces. It was no good; he did not remember anyone in this class, and he did not remember this ambrotype being taken.

Augustus had to fight the desperate desire to put it in his satchel. It might be an even more useful material than the mug—something from that time period! Something that both he AND Soren were in!—but he was sure it would instantly be missed, and that would put Soren on his guard. Beyond which, if it was found on Augustus or in his belongings, it would be extremely incriminating in the way a mug wouldn’t. He forced himself to put it back face down, the way he’d found it. 

He knew where it was now, anyway. He could always come back for it later.

It was like putting it down broke some kind of metaphorical spell—he was fairly sure it wasn’t a literal one, though there was no way to be certain—and he was able to move again, grabbing the mug and putting it in his satchel. He just wouldn’t think about it for now; he couldn’t, not without getting caught up in implications.

Augustus left quickly through the locked door. Maybe the locksmith had been on to something after all—the inconveniences of locking himself out of this office were quickly forgotten in the face of not having to try to relock this one with picks. It was just as well, because a moment after he’d shut it, someone rounded the corner at the end of the hall; looked like a student on their way to someone’s office hours.

Trying to act like he’d only just got there, Augustus rattled the knob, peered in through the frosted glass with a sigh of irritation, then turned and walked away.

So. First mission was possibly a success, if not an uncomplicated one. Now, it was time to cram in as many more things as possible. Augustus was sure he could do more if he wasn’t doing them alone—so he headed toward Yujin’s study room. He could get Yujin to interview Feather about Soren, and spend the same time talking to Fitzfleming. After that he’d need lunch, and could see about skipping office hours to go get Olivia to introduce him to Soren.

Yujin was in their study room, and answered the door after a quick casual knock. They looked a little pale, only opening the door a crack, though they relaxed minutely when they saw who it was. Were they worried about someone just barging in?

“Morning, Yujin,” Augustus said cheerfully.

“Morning, sir. Something I can do for you?”

Augustus bobbed his head affably. “Do you know Feather St. Saint?”

“Feather?” Yujin’s brows furrowed briefly. “Yeah, we’ve met a few times. Why?”

“Can I step inside?”

Yujin stepped aside, allowing Augustus to come in, and gestured to the desk chair. “Did something happen?”

Augustus shook his head—he didn’t plan to be long—and just shut the door for some privacy. “Not at all. I was hoping you’d talk to them and get some information on Soren Kincaird.”

“Professor Kincaird?” Yujin blinked a few times. “Sure. Wait, do you think he stole your things?”

“He might have,” Augustus lied. “I have reason to believe he might have interest in me, and I’m not sure why.” That half wasn’t a lie, given the desk photo. “So any information you can get on him would be useful. Where he got his degrees—” Though Augustus assumed it was at the Twent College of Arcane Arts, given the photo and the fact he knew he’d gone there. “—past job, why he came to this job, any of those things. What sort of papers he’s currently working on. Try to be subtle.”

Yujin seemed stressed about this for some reason. “Uh, okay. I’ll go now? It’s urgent?”

“That sounds great,” Augustus enthused. “Thanks, Yujin. Maybe you’ll even make a friend out of it, if you hit it off with Feather!”

The expression Yujin gave him was pure mortification. “Yes, sir. If you’re willing to step out, I’ll lock up?”

“Of course—that’s everything for now,” Augustus said, heading out and waving back as he walked. “I’ve got other things to attend to, but let me know once you’ve heard more.”

So, two things checked off the list. What a productive morning he was having, compared to most! 

Next up was Ivory Fitzfleming, who was in her office. Augustus knocked, two quick raps, and then let himself in.

“Good mor—Pennywright!” She half-stood from behind her desk, grasping onto the edge. “What brings you here? I hope there hasn’t been any trouble with any of my students, or anything like that, or is it—is it a personal visit?”

Oh, her RA had been right, she was acting strange. Normally staid and straightforward, not jumpy like this. When the RA had commented about how she’d even cried, it had been hard to imagine from the normal Fitzfleming, but this Fitzfleming seemed on the edge of a breakdown. 

That complicated things a little. He knew how he’d normally approach her, straightforward and blunt in the face of her tendency to look down on his field. But he wasn’t familiar with this current mood she was in. Should he push on that emotional edge to see what came out from under it? Try to work around it delicately? Behave as if she were acting normally?

[What should Augustus do? Comment with details.]

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Hello, all! So, I got both my flu shot and my covid booster yesterday and, well, the head fog is real and the writing machine is out of commission atm. I’m taking today as a rest day!

That means you all get an extra 24 hours to come up with suggestions — please turn your comments in on Day 10 by 4:00 PM PST on October 12!

Now’s a great time to get caught up if you fell behind, so come and join in the dark academia Halloween fun!

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Augustus made himself a hearty breakfast of eggs, bread, sausages, and cheese, combining them into something resembling a sandwich and chewing slowly, his brow furrowed.

It was time to focus on Soren, clearly; Em had said as much, and if Em’s first priority was conquering this plane of existence, his second was fulfilling his promise to Augustus and unlocking his past. If he thought Soren was the key, then Augustus needed to talk to him as soon as possible.

He was strangely afraid to do this, possibly because Soren was tied to that big gap of nothingness that had been in his life for so long, but he needed to be brave. He needed details, he decided, in order to know how to approach Soren correctly. Where had he been studying originally to get his degrees? Where had he been working before the school hired him? Who had referred him? Were there any inconsistencies in his paperwork that could be found by talking to the right people? What details were known about his past and what was rumored?

The problem was, he concluded as he took his plate to the sink and scrubbed it ferociously, that if something were to happen to Soren soon, his asking around would make it possible to tie the incident back to him. Obviously, that might be a non-issue if Soren ended up coming consensually, or if he simply stole something of Soren’s and brought it to Em instead. But while his specialty wasn’t in sympathetic magic, he knew that if you wanted to use magic to divine about a person, the actual person was the best option, then hair or nails or other body parts, then belongings, and so on. The further away one got from the actual individual, the less the magic could get.

So he had to go ahead assuming that it was possible he might end up having to kidnap Soren sometime.

At least getting Soren (or something of Soren’s) to Em wouldn’t be an issue. Summoning him took time and materials, and also increased the chance that someone would find out somehow. But he could still summon him whenever he liked, and there were times in the past that he’d summoned Em every day just for the joy of it.

He had to focus, he reminded himself, dressing in a smart peacock blue suit which was embroidered with gold thread. If he wanted to reduce the number of people who knew about him being interested in Soren, Olivia was the only person he’d already asked. And she was willing to introduce them, so simply using her might work. On the other hand, he didn’t know how much Olivia would know about Soren, and Olivia wasn’t free until the afternoon—at the same time as Augustus’ office hours. Skipping them might go unnoticed, or it might stand out as suspicious.

On the other hand, asking multiple people only for one or two details might make him seem less obsessive than asking for a lot of details from one person. And he did still have to interrogate Fitzfleming to see if she were somehow involved in the theft of his research. It was possible he could double up and ask her about Soren while he was questioning her anyway. As a professor, though, she would be far more likely to know about Soren now than about Soren’s past.

The best person to get access to all of Soren’s hiring information and background details would be the dean, Reginald von Beekeeper. He’d thus be the best person to go to for things that other professors wouldn’t have access to. On the other hand, he’d likely be the first person to notice if something was amiss with Soren later, and he’d definitely get on Augustus’s case to hurry up with his monograph the moment he even caught sight of Augustus. Ugh.

There was also the easy option: using Yujin. On weekdays, Yujin worked on whatever research items that Augustus had previously assigned to them, and remained on call for anything else Augustus might need. He could have Yujin do a certain amount of asking around on his behalf; he could probably tell Yujin that he suspected Soren of the thefts to justify it. He could probably lean on them for discretion—he was pretty sure they weren’t behind the thefts themself. He just wasn’t certain of it, which did introduce some risk. Still, if Yujin did the asking around instead of Augustus, that’d be a level of deniability for Augustus himself.

His feet had taken him most of the way to the school as he thought through his options, and he frowned up at the campus gates before passing through them. Well, he could at least do the most basic research himself: finding Soren’s office.

Augustus walked the block of their department’s offices casually, as if simply going for a stroll on the way to his own. It didn’t take him too long to find his target: A door labeled Soren Kincaird, Doctor of Conjurations, Aetherial Spirits. Posted on the door were Soren’s office hours—none today, some tomorrow morning—though unfortunately, classes were not listed. The note did, however, list Soren’s research assistant as Feather St. Saint, and said to direct inquiries to her in his absence.

The office was closed and the opaque window was dark. Augustus hesitated outside it, casually checking his pocket watch. So, he could seek out any of the people he’d thought of and try to get information through them … or, of course, he could simply attempt to break in. 

[What should Augustus do? Comment with details.

(There was a lot of options in there, so to summarize:
– Wait for Olivia’s offered introduction in the afternoon, skip office hours
– Question Ivory Fitzfleming about the missing books and/or Soren
– Go to Dean Reginald von Beekeeper to try to get info
– Make Yujin do it for you
– Try to find Feather St. Saint and see what she knows
– break the fuck into this guy’s office lol
– Some combination of the above, timing-dependent)]

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