>>5544992>>5548268Nothing is wrong. You needed to talk to him anyway.
From where you seat yourself, you see your mother buzzing around in the kitchen. She's helping the white-haired woman that is Meryl's mother cook but mostly making sure she doesn't ruin the organization of the pots and pans. "Normally, I would be chipping in, but too many cooks and all that." He looks disquieted for a second, not the chipper talkative fellow he usually is. "Well, I made the coffee, so I won't worry about it." His smile comes back to his face suddenly and he asks you, "How did you sleep?" <span class="mu-g">Pretty well.</span> "Good to hear. You know, it's unusual to me that you're a natural sorcerer when neither of your parents are." He would know better than you.
Dr. Feardorcha Cier. Sometimes spelled Ciar. By all appearances, he's a jovial pipsqueak, almost a head shorter than his own daughter with blazing red hair in a full beard. Professor of marine immunology, apparently, who keeps multiple fish tanks in his own household. Also a magician who can apparently encrypt radio transmissions at will. You make it a point to ask what kind of sorcerer he is, anyway.
"Ah, I'm glad you asked!" he says. "I'm a regular Magneto! My family broke off from a bigger clan and focused on light manipulation- things like invisibility and illusions. Turns out that electromagnetism has manifold applications. Baking home intruders, for example." Wait, what? "Yup. Turns out it doesn't take much heat to make a belt of ammunition cook off." Oh, okay. "And if you've never seen someone's head getting microwaved-" Your skin crawls. <span class="mu-g">I think I'll pass.</span> He shrugs, sipping his coffee, seeming more amused by your discomfort than concerned by it. Well, that explains a lot.
The sound of frying is heard, and the old man's ears perk up. "Boxty! Good luck, to have the mashed potatoes on hand." Sure enough, peeking into the kitchen shows that Mom's leftover mashed potatoes have been co-opted for this endeavor. She probably made too much in anticipation of your arrival. You can't disagree with the outcome, however. Even as garlic-y as the fried potato pancakes are, they certainly are filling. Even Dad seems impressed, as he and Daryl get the freshest batch for work.
Mom returns to the dining table after kissing Dad and sits next to you, across from Meryl's father. She plays the part of a good hostess, and is especially happy that the Ciers plan on keeping her supplied instead of abusing her hospitality (more). It's very calm, and you're grateful for that, though you think that it's most likely a prelude to something loud. When Meryl comes downstairs, Mom's expression becomes a little strained, but it has nothing to do with her and everything to do with you. Aw, man. Thankfully, there's no alarms or alerts... Things just seem to work out. When you're prepping the dishes for the dishwasher, discussion in the den is on what ought to be done for the day.
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