Morning Lessons: Remedial Civics

"Please wake up, Master." A soothing voice. A gentle kiss, a tiny, near imperceptible thing... and he awoke as the fluttering of Fairy's wings blew air at him. "Please wake up," she repeated in that saccharine voice...

"Boop," he whispered, patting her once on the head with his open palm. "That means Sleep mode. Do you remember?"

"I don't know how... but I will fucking ruin you..."

"What was that, my happy little alarm clock?"

"Why, nothing, Master," she declared, shrugging while emphasizing her cleavage with her arms.

John grinned as he leapt out of bed. Sure enough, he slept like a stone thanks to all that "fun" at Tricia's the night before. They finished what she had called her preliminary exploration of his systems, including a sampling of stat dumps elsewhere: 3 points into Charisma, and the remaining 7 into Intelligence (after he insisted). She still couldn't get a grasp on what he was calling "mana", but he had practiced some of his powers in front of her so she could get a better idea. Thinking on that, he realized he didn't bother reviewing the pop-ups from last night; after transposing with Fairy, followed by dismissing and re-summoning her to get her home quickly, he gave her his absurd instructions to wake him up sweetly and with gentle kisses before collapsing right into bed.

Looking at her expression now, he didn't realize just how much she'd loathe him for it. "H-Hey, sorry about that... no more alarm clock, OK? I'll just use my electronic-."

"You bet your fucking ass no m- do you have any idea how humiliating this is without you leaning into it, you fuckstick?!"

He chuckled off her (continuing) complaints while reviewing his various gains.

Summoning lvl3, passive
+12 inventory
Awareness now gives you additional personal information on enemies you've defeated.

Summoner's temple lvl3, passive
Summoner's temple: Dismissed summons are no longer in stasis: your temple is now a home for them, designed according to your personality. You gain the skill: Summoner's hearth. Time in the temple moves [100 x (skill lvl+1)]% faster than in the real world when the summoner occupies it.

New skill: Summoner's hearth, 100mp
Summoner's hearth: after casting this spell for one minute, you may enter your Summoner's temple as a special barrier creation, which only allows your entry and does not permit Abyssal encounters. This spell's cost is reduced by 50mp if done at the caster's home, and by 50mp if done at night.

Summon/Dismiss lvl3
You may now have up to two summons out at the same time. Summon/Dismiss time reduced to 45 seconds.

Heal monster lvl2, mp cost equal to 90% of hp healed
Transpose lvl3, 15mp

Biomancy lvl4, passive
Augment/Reduce body lvl3

Telemancy lvl3, passive
Augment/Reduce emotion lvl3
Meditation lvl2

He definitely wanted to check out this Summoner's hearth, but only after he was done grinding: at even 50mp, it was too much to ask to meditate when he wanted to take advantage of the early morning. As for the rest of the skills, only half of their gains had been predictable: he had been asked to cast a number of them on her and then (once she was left beaming when he discovered they all failed to affect her) on himself. His confidence was up, his cock had been inflated (and then brought back down to the "reasonable" total of nine inches), and he learned how quickly low-level skills rose once his personal level happened to skyrocket. Even meditation, which hadn't budged on its multipliers, jumped a level and finally delivered on its rare promise:

New skill: Slow lvl1, 30mp
Slow: target creature reacts up to [skill lvl x 25%] slower to the passage of time and events. Lasts for a number of rounds equal to the difference between your level and the target. No effect on targets of equal or higher level.

A refreshingly simple RPG spell... though now that he thought about it in the real world, it sounded rather alarming. The untested spell aside (since it had no effect on Tricia and he wasn't comfortable casting it on himself), the list of all those near-free levelups made his theory about low level skills more plausible. The only exceptions were the skills he only recently learned, and only his style had achieved a single level after having spent so much of the night practicing them in front of Trish. Perhaps it was because those were "high level" skills, or skills that needed to be used in combat? The tooltips didn't offer him anything on these mechanics, and John wasn't too worried: today would hopefully fix all of these questions and stale levels, because he was set to go to school insanely early and do what he was bred, born, and trained to do:

Grind and get huge.

NEW DAILY QUEST! "Every summon needs a friend!"
Acquire a new summon before the next sunset!
+300XP
+$500
Optional: Have intercourse with your new summon before the next sunset!
Optional Reward: +200XP, one magical item based on captured summon

John recalled how he still got to level up when he captured Fairy, so there really couldn't be a downside to this daily. But sex with his summon? What if it wasn't nearly as pleasant as Fairy? Hell, what if it was as small as her? It could be something disgusting like a slime, or a bug, or just a plain ol' animal with extra horns or only toothy holes or... as his worries mounted, it dawned on him that there was nothing that said he had to capture the first thing he saw, at least this time. Determined to find out what awaited him, he got changed into his adventuring clothes (old sweat pants, worn t-shirt, sneakers and socks, and his trusty bracers) and checked his inventory one last time.

"Wait, you're going to school like that? You look like the nasty hobos who used to piss on the diner! You don't have the balls, cocksleeve; you'd get laughed out of school!"

"And who's going to see me like this?" John declared smugly. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and opened them as he pointed at his bedroom door... and a silver oval portal, six feet tall and three feet across, covered it. Beyond this yawning gate was not the hallway in his house but instead the darkness of June Summers' art class, disturbed only now by the light of his bedroom. Despite having a fairly good reason (almost dying) for missing her "tutoring" after school, he knew he couldn't even contemplate admitting it. I hope she forgives me... John shook the thought and stepped through, beckoning Fairy to follow him. The portal closed behind him, and he was left in the near-black of the early morning through the windows. It was strange enough to cross over a mile in a step, sure. But the change in the air and the dead silence... John was going to need to get used to this. Unnerved, he groped for the light switches. Fairy's wings were all the indication that he had that she was still nearby, but he was comforted knowing he wasn't here completely alone. Where the Hell are they-

"A bit early for class, aren't we Mr. Newman?"

"JESUS FUCK-"

"HOLY SHIT-"

The lights burst to life, revealing the art room in its quiet glory... and neither John nor Fairy finished their outbursts as their eyes landed the source of that calm, taunting voice: Mrs. Wentworth. "I realize this is a school for young adults, but please try to refrain from cursing. Ashcroft tries to raise you better... even intriguing pupils like yourself." While his eyes stung with the light, John did his best to wince a good look at his Civics and History teacher. There was a plain charm in the older woman's features, where only the slightest hints of her age peeked from all her efforts to dress even older. The sobering, austere clothing she wore every day that he had seen her were still present: today was pinstriped gray suit and skirt down to her knees, with a shirt that shimmered with flowery designs that did all the work to give her any aesthetic beyond that of a dystopian attorney. Polished black heels, the gleam of her silver wire-frame glasses, and the tight bun of her up-do all indicated a social studies professor ready for her classes... only she was in the art room. Three hours before school opened. Just like him.

"W-W-W-Wentworth?!"

"That's Mrs. Wentworth to you, Mr. Newman. Honestly, among the many, many changes you've undergone recently, I'd have hoped gaining a sense of caution might've been among them. I see this is not so."

Fairy flew behind John, peeking over his shoulder with a mana bolt in her hand. "Who the fuck-"

The sound of her wings vanished.

"Wha..." John looked around and behind him, alarmed. Fairy herself had vanished, too.

"We need to talk."

His head snapped back, eyes bulging out of his head as he stirred cream into his coffee- Huh?! John's head whipped around as he nearly tipped the warm mug of joe over, his eyes catching all the little details of The Cuck Factory, the small diner that had given him his first summon. The early morning darkness was still being broken outside. No one save a bored waitress was around. Across from him was Mrs. Wentworth, dabbing her unpainted lips with a napkin and completing the image of a some kind of legal professional wrapping up her 20-hour shift. A plate of syrup and crumbs before her suggested they had ordered food, she had enjoyed the meal slowly, and he was on his second cup of coffee. These things were true, John realized. He knew them to be true. He just didn't understand how he knew them. Another look around confirmed that Fairy remained missing. Fairy? Can you hear me, Fairy?

"Please, Mr. Newman, your **** is fine," she muttered between sips of cola. "I just needed to get you out of the Academy before other interested parties found you... regardless of the protections you think you've signed with at least one of them."

John did finally hunker down, terrified as he was of his sudden jaunt into this interview. "Alright... Alright. You've made your point," John carefully whispered, "you're obviously... a big deal, but who are you?"

"You don't need to whisper, John, please. Do you honestly think you'll wake her?" John looked over to find the waitress still standing, but now with head lulled to the side and her face peaceful. "Besides, you already know who I am, and that's all you need to know about me... well, that and the fact that I'm a voice of reason during your mad dash to upset every order, guild, and contract left involving our little Academy. Do you think you can just bend space there in the off-hours with none the wiser? Maybe you got away during school hours when it's hard for anyone to notice, but consider the Academy off-limits for such tricks at night... especially if you're trying to break in."

John stared at her dumbly... until the shock finally wore away and the obvious came to light. "You're... you're a mage."

"Please refrain from assertions or questions about my-"

"You're clearly a maaaaaaahhee- hah? Hah?!" John began to panic as he could no longer feel his tongue.

"Do not interrupt your betters, Mr. Newman."

His mouth shut against his will... and then relaxed. The feeling in his tongue returned... or perhaps, as a terrifying realization dawned on him, the tongue itself returned. "Please... continue," he meekly whispered.

"Please refrain from questions about me or my background, because you're not going to get much in my answers. What I can tell you are a few important considerations," she lectured, pausing to take another long sip of cola. It didn't seem to lower the amount in the cup. "For example, the Golden Rose."

John raised his eyebrows at that. "You mean the Wardens?"

"Yes, that Order that nearly killed you... that you then signed up with for protection."

"I... well, I mean it was an accident, and she did heal me-"

"No, the Gorbachev girl healed you... which was foolish of her, given that until now I was the only one aware of her presence." She peered into his eyes, and now he couldn't help but fear what she might be doing between his ears. "But let's put aside her worries for now. You have a budding trust in the Brightons... and you would do well to snuff it out, first and foremost."

John waited while all but biting his tongue to make sure he wasn't interrupting (and to be sure it remained). "Why? Are you... with an enemy guild of-" He stopped himself, realizing the error of probing for her background, and her smile didn't comfort.

It's disappearance didn't either, and a smell like charcoal danced across John's senses as he locked eyes with her. "I am one who has known the Order longer than any of its living inheritors. I've watched many of my sisters be burned alive by their hands and laws, and in their zealous flames and by their silver cups have I watched their plague inflict itself on men and women, the mundane and the gifted, with reckless glee and rage. It is a disease, this gilded age of mediocrity, and in its poise do they open our flanks to the worst the Abyss has to offer." A sip of cola. The lights brightened again, and only now did John realize they had dimmed almost to being snuffed out. "But I don't intend to destroy them, no, and I'm not a member of one of the foolish clutches who do. You would simply do well to trust them far less than you already do. You have a healthy stock of doubt writhing in there... I recommend you use it."

John found that he had sunken halfway under the table, and righted his posture before daring to speak. "Then... then what do you want?"

"More questions about me?" John didn't waver. Her toothy grin was out of place on that librarian look. "Such a brave young thing... well, I want to see the world become a better place, same as any decent human being," she chuckled. "I think our kind have the power to do it. We need not the throne, merely the wheel to steer... and if you keep that bravery up, perhaps you will become instrumental in getting it into the right hands."

Fear gave to anger as John realized what had been bothering him: a common thread between the Brighton patriarch and this insanely powerful witch. Becoming the Gamer had given him a new view of the world, a sense of freedom... and these two had leapt from the unseen world to strip him of it. "I don't want to be used-"

"You've already been used. If you despise it, then bite the hands that feed... but be ready for the repercussions."

"What... what does that even mean?!" John finally yelled, standing up awkwardly between the booth and table. "Look, Mrs. Wentworth, I'm sorry, really I am, but I really don't know what's going on and everyone keeps being vague as shi- as all H... as they can be!" She nodded at his self-censorship, and he only became more upset that he bothered. "I didn't want to be involved in some world-changing whatever-you're-about, or be a lapdog for paladins. I just... I just want to..."

"To enjoy this?"

"Yes!" John paused... and looked about, unsure.

"Then enjoy it," she declared with a tight smile, "and have your fun... and as long as you don't act against me, you'll never have to worry about these little meetings again."

"How..." John sat back down, tossing a worrisome glance back at the still-comatose waitress. "How will I know? I mean, you clearly hate the Wardens, and they could contract me to interfere with-"

"Another assumption," she said with a sigh, "and again you have the wrong of it. There are many aspects to the Abyss you don't understand, and that I cannot explain here. There are those of our kind who, like you, just want to be left alone... and there are others, also like you, who seek to manipulate others for their own amusement."

"I..." A flurry of memories invaded his foremost thoughts: every use of his power on others, from augmenting emotions to his first round of cunnilingus. He fell silent.

"I do not fit neatly into any category, none that the Order can move against at least... and I've already told you of my goal. As long as you do not oppose me independently, you've nothing to fear from me."

"To take the wheel..." John rubbed his head, unsure. "You... said you wanted to improve the world, but it sounds like you want to rule-"

"Incorrect," she cut him off. "Mine is merely a path to real change, the kind that can make a difference. But change requires power, as the Golden Rose has proven with its own tyranny... and any gain in real power will be viewed as a threat by their kind." Another sip. Still the cup was nearly overflowing. "... even in you, benign as your hobbies are for now."

John continued scrubbing his head in silent contemplation.

With a sigh she stood up, checking a watch she wore upside down on her wrist. "We're done here. No more magic at the Academy, except that which can be explained away by some coincidence of normality, and never at night... and step out of the shower already! You'll be a prune at this rate."

John finished scrubbing the conditioner out of his hair, and paused as he looked about his shower. Outside, Fairy's shadow fluttered mid-air... and then nearly fell straight to the ground before recovering herself. "- are you, lady-" A confused pause. "What the- what the fuck- how did we-?!" John didn't answer her; how could he?

A knock on the bathroom door, and his mother's voice rung out, heavy and seemingly winded. "John... you'll be late for the bus if you don't finish up in there..."