“Parties are fun. 

I’ve never been to the royal ones though.

The ‘commoners’ know how to have fun.”

-from ‘CLASSIFIED’ by Princess Sibylla of Endro

“You're going to a party?”

Clara’s deadbeat tone rang like bells in Leila’s ears as she muttered under her breath. 

“For the sixteenth time, YES.” 

Clara whistled, crossing her arms while leaning against the teak door frame, her eyes judging Leila’s wardrobe as she chose an attire for the night’s gala. 

It had been a little over a week since the Director’s meeting with President Reneirva, a week that passed as she rushed Clara out of Raschul, procuring her a student interview at Tellowania College along the way and a week of the duo staying under the same roof. 

There were no formalities. No ‘Director’ or ‘apprentice’. Just an abitious and a new, intellgient transfer student Clara. Initially, there were heated discussions with verbosely savage debates being held every minute between the two like rocketfire, however, only when they were alone. Towards society, they were a truly inseparable duo (much to both their disgust). 

However, at one point they reached a mutual truce-an agreement if you will. After all, they were only here for business purposes, nothing more or less. The goal of finding X0V was shared evenly with both women needing to secure positions at Tellowania College for additional cover and finance. 

Thus, as part of Leila’s teacher interview, she was invited along with 47 candidates to the Headmaster’s personally hosted gala as a treat before the actual interviews were conducted and first impressions were vital.

Well, to get in "legally". She thought.

Hence, resulting in Leila’s current predicament as she struggled to select an attire due to her wardrobe consisting of nothing but lab coats, casual sweaters and skirts with black boots being her only shoes.  

She gave a pained smile. 

Wonderful. 

Leila could feel grey eyes bore into her mind as the girl stifled a snort. Her smile now tilted to a scowl. 

“I don’t believe murder scientists are trending. Just buy new clothes.” 

Leila glanced back at her, huffing. 

“With what money?” 

Clara furrowed her brows looking up at Leila as if weeds sprouted from her scalp. Further reducing her remaining patience to scraps. 

“You could use the funds the President provided.”

Her tone was even, as if the suggestion was the most obvious solution to their predicament. Leila countered back slightly aghast,  

“The exact funding we need for shelter, food, fees-”

“Most of which will be covered when you get the job, either by legal or illegal means and when I earn a scholarship- which let’s face it, will be ridiculously easy.” 

Leila smirked at Clara’s attitude, it really left no reason why Chief Renzaz was seemingly driven up the wall by her presence. It was a valid proposition, now that she considered it though. Yet, some damned part of her demanded to remain steadfast to Reneira. 

This is a breach of trust. I can not face that-!

Oh, shut up. 

A smile bloomed on her lips as her eyes took on their scheming gleam once more. 

“That…is not the worst idea I’ve heard.” Leila responded slowly as ideas began taking flight.

Clara’s eyes brightened.

“Then can I also-”

“Absoulutely not.” 

“What?!” she exclaimed, affronted by her exclusion. 

Leila sighed as the beginnings of a migraine took place. 

Despite her attempts to muffle the ‘mosquito’s’ nagging, Clara blocked every effort with a resounding shout or snapped question. Finally, before she was about to depart, a tug on her bagstrap halted her further. 

Really now…

Leila’s tired eyes met the ones of a spirited girl, desperation blatantly on display for all to witness. Clara made hands of prayer, squeezing her eyes shut while words tumbled out her mouth. 

“Please, pleasepleasePLEAASSEE can I come with you? I have not explored anything here and it’s been a week! I promise I’ll shut up with the sass for one-no TWO months.” 

Leila had to stiffen her face as amusement bubbled within her at the girl’s sudden excitement. 

“I’ve never pinned you to be so eager for shopping.” 

In an instant the deadpan, dull apprentice she emerged, her eyes half-lidded as sarcasm merged with disdain.

“The Chief never permitted me too.” 

Her mood switched once more as she pleaded. 

“So ... .a two month deal then? Please?” 

Leila tilted her head in consideration as Clara’s hope sprouted anxiously. 

“Well I do suppose we are going to live here for a while…so sure…”

Clara bit her lip, awaiting the final verdict. 

Leila had a cheshire grin painted across her face as she stared at Clara’s butterfly of hope and pictured it crumpled when she responded,

“But not with me, you're going to buy hair dye remover for me and then stay here.” 

She gestured to the barren cans, grinning at the rage bubbling within the teen.  

“Ta.”

The door slammed in Clara’s face and while Leila strode away, she heard  thunderous streams of crude curses the girl could muster, booming from the walls without even mulling the volume in the slightest. 

Her eyes particularly widened at the eloquent phrasing regarding her face and shrewdness to put it politely. Leila scoffed, feeling her mask of the ‘Director’ emerging from within the depths of her mind as a flurry of punishments for the puppet became daydreams. 

I need to teach the brat a lesson. 

Cy: Well you look like sh-

Don’t. 

Cy: -itokita flowers. They’re quite horrid, you know?

What? 

Cy; Nothing. It’s an internet trend. :D

Right…..The internet….

Ray rummaged through the luggage once more, tossing his previous suit aside amongst the abandoned pile of clothes. He never heard of ‘galas’ but from Cy’s description they seemed to be of at least; mediocre significance. Taking this in mind, even he the ‘runaway’ could tell this human lacked all sense of elegance or formality. 

In Cy’s wording, which to be honest, expressed the entire truth. Raymond’s fashion sense was absolute crap. Whilst Ray remained at the complex, conflicted on his attire for the night, his family went on their own expedition of Endro’s food stalls (breathing collectively at being free of mould and leaking pipes). 

 With Cy being engrossed in a deep dive of ‘the internet’ ever since they had connected to the apartment's Wi-Fi, much to its joy. 

Although Ray had not the slightest clue what either was or did, deducting from Cy’s descriptions alone, he assumed it consisted of immense, pointless nonsense. 

Or that’s what Cy likes to see. 

Cy: Oi! I do not have such revolting tastes, and the internet is not pointless! For one, we do not have to rely on our own battery anymore and for another, have you SEEN this puppy? It. Is. ADORABLE!!!. AAAAAAAAH!!!!!! (OvO)

Ray saw a panel with what Cy called a ‘puppy’ as the yellow furred thing swam across the water, messily splashing anyone in its vicinity without a care at all. His scowl returned, which he noticed seemed to be a frequent occurrence recently between talking to Francis and Cy simultaneously. 

What is the point of this? 

Cy: *scoff* the POINT is the poor thing’s CUTENESS. Do you seriously not want to just reach into the video and CUDDLE it so tightly and nevereverEVERletgo-

No.

Cy: No taste at all. >:(

I do not even- what is that symbol? 

Cy: Ah-HA! THIS dear comrade, is called an ‘emoticon’. I’ve downloaded the whole set AND this generation’s ‘slang terms’. This is the most pristine way of expressing true emotions in various ways and spectrums. Innovation at its finest, the PEAK OF HUMAN-

Stupidity? 

Cy: The PEAK of human-

Idiocy? 

Cy: (-_-) …… You’re so petty. 

Good. Now do you have something actually useful for the gala or not?

Cy: FINEEEEE! *sigh* Here you go jerk. (- M -)

The panel in front of Ray suddenly spinned around him and in seconds it multiplied until he was surrounded by numerous of them, all until halfway ‘til the ceiling. Rather than videos however, each depicted different sets and designs of suits with matching accessories for increased styling possibilities. 

For a moment, Ray was caught off guard by the multitude of choices before him as anticipation arose but was soon suppressed at the sight of the pricing. 

We can not afford this! 

Cy: Pshh. Dense algorithmic and/or mortal mind! Who said we were going to BUY it?

What? 

Cy: heheh >:D  WE are going to reconfigure this onto ourselves.

In case you forgot, our prowess is significantly reduced due to our injur-

[Line stopped by user Cy]

Cy: Yes, we cannot fully alter our appearance. BUT we can do something as simple and temporary as clothes. Now…

The panels spread to allow Ray to see himself through the wardrobe mirror as the first hologram of a suit projected itself onto his form. 

Cy: Get choosing babygirl! 

You really need to delete the slang database. 

Cy: N.E.V.E.R. 

Ray shook his head fondly at the lost cause, swiping through clothes on repeat. A frown grew amidst this as doubt crept into his heart like growing weeds, with dread filling his being. 

Do you really think we could pull this off? Without getting caught?

Cy: It’ll be absolutely fine Ray. Just wave, say hi and drink all your glory to then dance away. What could possibly happen in three hours? 

That sentence now rung in Ray’s mind at present as he gazed at the fire-haired woman in front. The once pristine circular tables with their marvels of wine glasses and pastries now laid toppled over and shattered into millions of pieces with food crushed on the marble tiles. Dark red wine stained both others and their own (now torn) clothes as the woman swiped the broken glass like a knife at the raging ravenette man, whose screams barely registered as Ray stood stunned much like the rest of the scandalised people surrounding them.

Her violet eyes glanced back at him, behind slightly gold-tinted spectacle lenses.

She raised a brow at him, beckoning him to the fray. 

“Your turn.”