“Pick a card.”

Ursula frowned slightly. “Shouldn't you shuffle the deck, first?”

Viola shook her head patiently. “No, not yet.”

“Well, okay...” Ursula took the cards from Viola's outstretched hands and flipped through them.

“Feel free to look through it as much as you want, to make sure I didn't do anything weird to it.”

“Yeah.”

“Also make sure not to let me see your card. And put it back where you first found it.”

“Uh-huh.” It was hardly the first time that Viola had performed a card trick. It wasn't even the first time she had performed this particular card trick. It wasn't exactly old-hat, but Ursula knew the motions she had to go through for her part. “Okay, picked one.”

“Good. Now I shuffle the deck.”

“I wanna shuffle the deck.” Ursula fiddled with the cards, smirking slightly. “Wanna make sure you don't try anything funny.”

Viola frowned slightly. “O-oh, um-”

“Ursula, do you remember what happened the last time we let you shuffle a deck of cards?” Erin interjected from a desk on the other side of the room, a fake smile plastered on her face. Ursula frowned. “I'm not particularly relishing the idea of playing 52 Pickup in the time before class starts, so please let Viola shuffle.”

“... Fine,” Ursula grunted, reluctantly handing the deck back to Viola. “But I want you all to know that was one time and it was a big fluke and you're all jerks.”

“And you're the best alpha a pack could ask for, dahling~” The venom that laced Erin's retort was well concealed, but Viola had known her long enough to know that it was there.

“Guys, just let Viola do the trick,” Vienna interjected wearily from the other side of the room. “It's way too early for this shit.”

Viola shot her twin a pained look, but the damage had already been done. “I'm not preventing her from doing the trick at all,” Erin snapped back. She no longer bothered to hide the bitter coldness that tainted most everything she said to the group these days, and Viola stifled a groan. It was all falling apart. Again. She had hoped to at least keep everyone distracted with some card tricks until class started, and from there they wouldn't have to spend time together as a group. It wasn't the ideal solution, but at least they wouldn't be constantly at each other's throats.

Again.

“Um, I'm going to shuffle the deck now,” she interjected. Erin shot Vienna a glare, and Vienna rolled her eyes but declined to rise to the obvious bait. Satisfied that disaster had been averted, at least for now, Viola began to shuffle the cards and everything else faded away. This was her element. She held the deck tightly with one hand, dividing it into two and then riffling the two halves together. It was a simple flourish, but visually impressive enough to draw all attention back to her. Ursula's eyes widened in quiet awe, Vienna grinned widely, and even Erin seemed as impressed as she ever was.

Viola did a few more flourishes, the cards dancing in her hands like – well, like magic. They flowed back and forth elegantly in a manner that was simultaneously visually impressive and entirely useless for actually shuffling the cards. But that was the point, really. She didn't need the cards to be shuffled, but she needed her audience to think they were shuffled. It also gave them something flashy to look at while she carefully palmed Ursula's card, slipping it up the sleeve of her baggy hoodie.

It also gave her the opportunity to really show off a bit.

“Okay, now we need to cut the deck. Ursula, you can do that.” Erin opened her mouth to interject with something snarky, but Vienna shut her down with a glare.

Ursula wordlessly reached down and cut the deck. Letting her perform the action was risky, but also helped to get her guard down. Viola had left the cards very slightly out of alignment at the point she needed the cut to happen. It wasn't guaranteed to work, but it was safe enough that Viola was willing to risk it – and, sure enough, Ursula took the bait without even realizing it. “You only need to cut it once.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ursula replied, pushing the deck back towards Viola.

“Okay, so. Now we need to figure out what your card is.”

“Uh huh.”

“We should go about this methodically. First, I'm going to ask the deck to sort itself. Let's start with the  spades, then clubs, then diamonds, and hearts last.” Ursula raised an eyebrow as Viola tapped the deck – once, twice, three times – and then picked it up and deftly began to deal. “Ace, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, jack, queen, king. Looks like your card wasn't a spade, then.”

“What the fuck.” Ursula's eyes had widened again, glimmering with awe. Vienna's grin had vanished, her jaw hanging loose in an almost comical expression of genuine surprise. Even Erin had dropped the cool act and was on the edge of her seat. “How- how the fuck did you-”

“A magician never reveals her secrets,” Viola replied, suppressing a grin. She had spent months practising and perfecting this new technique. It required extensive setup, precise motions, and a high degree of hand-eye coordination. Her mother had made an excellent test audience, and letting the audience cut the cards had been her father's idea – which had been brilliant. She didn't think it would have gotten quite this reaction had she not let Ursula cut the deck. Without any further words, she moved onto the clubs and then the diamonds, both in the exact same perfect order. Ursula's card wasn't in either of those suits, which was also Viola's doing. The same essential technique as she had used to ensure that Ursula cut the deck in the correct place, though it was much more reliable when getting the audience to choose a card. Especially since she only needed her to choose a card of a particular suit.

“Okay, hearts next. Ace, two, three, five – ah, there we go.” She laid out the rest of the cards, also in perfect numerical order with only the four missing. With a snap of her fingers – and some very careful manoeuvring of her fingers – the four of hearts materialized out of nowhere in her black-furred right hand. “Is this your card?”

“Uh. Yeah.”

Erin rolled her eyes. “Showoff,” she muttered, and Viola winced slightly as Vienna shot her another glare.

Viola carefully gathered up the cards again. “Okay, uh, next trick-”

“I'm going to Locksmouth.”

Viola froze. Every muscle in her body tensed and her heart sank into her stomach as she turned to look at Erin. “I-I was gonna-”

“For college,” Erin continued. “I haven't heard back from them yet, but my application is strong enough I expect to make it in.” Her facial expression was flat and cold, and she looked directly into Viola's eyes. “After this year, I intend to leave Esterwood. And I don't expect I shall ever be coming back.”

Erin's words hung heavily in the air, like heavy humidity forewarning an oncoming storm.

“So that's it, huh?” Ursula sighed bitterly. “This time next year we're just... done?”

“We're already done, Ursula,” Erin replied frankly. “This just makes it official.”

“Well, fuck you too then.”

“You can't possibly blame me for being uninterested in carrying on the charade of friendship with a group of people who I cannot stand,” Erin snapped.

“I can blame you for not even trying, you fucking leech!” She slammed her fist on the desk, knocking the deck off and scattering the cards on the floor. Viola dove down in a mad scramble to collect them, only to be shoved out of the way along with the desk as Ursula lurched upright indignantly. “You just latched on to me because I'm big and tough and then get bitchy because I'm no longer interested in fighting your fucking battles for you! Battles which you always instigate, by the way, because you're such a colossal cunt that you can't so much as open your fucking mouth without pissing someone off!”

It was Erin's turn to stand up, equally indignant. She was unusually tall for a mouse, allowing her to look Ursula in the eye without craning her neck. “Don't you dare try and lay all the blame on me, Ursula Eckstein. Because the last time I checked, you were this pack's alpha, not I. It's your job to mediate in disagreements between packmates, which you have never once bothered to do because you are incapable of dealing with a situation you cannot punch in the face like the brute you are.”

Ursula snarled, her lips pulling back to show off her intimidating canine fangs. “Says the bitch who uses me as an excuse to start fights with everyone she meets.”

“Guys, can we at least wait until after school to have this conversation,” Vienna interjected wearily. “We're gonna get in trouble.”

“Oh, fuck off, Vienna,” Ursula snapped. “Erin might be a leech, but at least when I suggest OC she doesn't say 'oh no sorry maybe some other time' every single fucking time. For fuck's sake, even Viola – fucking Viola, the weird kid who had an imaginary friend until she was fifteen – even she contributes more to the pack than you do.”

“Hey, I contribute plenty-”

“You contribute moralization, darling,” Erin corrected.

“All you ever do is bitch that we aren't all a perfect happy family at all times and I'm fucking sick of it,” Ursula growled, turning to face Vienna. Even when the both of them were standing, the doberman was significantly taller than her – with Vienna seated, Ursula towered intimidatingly.

“So what, I'm supposed to be your slutty little fuckbunny whenever you're in the mood? Fuck you, asshole.” Her voice was steady, but her body quivered like a deer in the headlights, betraying her instinctual fear of the much larger predator.

“Don't fucking frame it like I'm constantly demanding sex. We've been packmates for years, and every time any of us asks if you want to OC you always say no.”

It was Vienna's turn to stand up indignantly. “I'm not obligated to have sex with any of you.”

“No! You're not! Which is why whenever you say no, we drop the subject! And then inevitably you're the one who throws it back in our faces, so this time I'm fuckin' cutting you off at the pass. You're a frigid bitch, and if you want to have any say in this pack you're going to have to start contributing something beyond being Viola's sister!”

“Fuck you!”

“No, fuck you!”

“Stop it!”

Viola practically screamed, and it cut through the three-way shouting match like a gunshot in a quiet meadow. All three of her packmates immediately stopped arguing and turned to look at her, hunched over and crying. “J-just stop it, okay? Please?”

Ursula winced, Vienna shuffled, and Erin looked profoundly ashamed of herself. “Uh. Sorry, Viola,” Erin muttered, the first to work up the nerve to break the sudden, awkward silence. “But we need to deal with this eventually or we're all going be miserable all the time.”

“No, Miss Coniglio is correct, Miss Leroux. Math class is not the time or place for this conversation.”

The entire pack froze, and slowly turned to the entrance of the classroom. An elderly dragonfly stood there, frowning deeply at all of them. Behind him stood several of their classmates, nervously glancing into the room while pointedly avoiding eye contact. “Oh, uh, Professor Dawson, we were just-”

“Having a shouting match in my classroom, Miss Eckstein,” he finished. “And not for the first time, either. Did you think no one noticed?” The three standing packmates winced, while Viola slowly curled up into herself, still crying. None of them had ever seen Professor Dawson this angry before. Hell, until now, none of them had seen him angry period. His normal, friendly, almost grandfatherly demeanour was replaced with quiet rage, and none of them could work up the nerve to so much as speak up, much less talk back.

Professor Dawson took a deep breath, regaining some amount of composure. “Perhaps, however, Miss Leroux has a point. Perhaps you should deal with your personal differences before it begins to negatively impact your schoolwork.”

“Um, we can talk it out after school, I supp-”

“No, Miss Leroux. You – all four of you – are going to follow me to the counsellor’s office and we are going to deal with this now.”

“But-”

“Now, ladies,” Professor Dawson snapped, and the three girls winced again.

“... Let me just help Viola up, first.” Their teacher nodded tersely, and. Ursula ducked down to help Viola gather the cards she had knocked off the table. The two shared a pained look. “I'm sorry,” she muttered, too quiet for the others to hear it.

“It's not your fault,” Viola replied as she slowly pulled herself together. With some help from Ursula, she stood up, and joined the rest of the pack as they followed Professor Dawson in shameful silence.

~~~~~~ 

Putting things nicely, Esterwood was a small, tight-knit community. Most everyone knew most everyone else, and they all seemed to get along almost sickeningly well. That just served to make Erin hate the place even more, really. It went beyond stifling. Suffocating, oppressive, and every other euphemism she could think of. It was, at the risk of sounding like the angsty teenager she technically still was, but only technically, something no one understood. Standard, almost stereotypical teenage moaning. But that was part of why no one got it. It wasn't just that she didn't fit into her peer group. She didn't fit into the whole damn town. And this wasn't a new development, either. She'd felt this way for years, since she was a small child.

So she had gravitated towards other misfits. The big doberman girl who constantly got into fights. The checkerboard rabbit who talked to mirrors and did magic. Her twin, who clung to her at all times – to the point that people began to talk. And it had almost worked, for a while. Ursula would chase off the inevitable bullies that were drawn to Erin and Viola's weakness, and in return they would give her someone other than her immediate family who wasn't terrified of her. They had settled into a sort of uneasy symbiosis, something that almost resembled a normal pack dynamic.

But, then, the thing about friendships of convenience is that they very rarely last. For Erin, the breaking point was that Ursula not only scared off those who would bully her but also those who wouldn't. She so, so desperately wanted to fit in. But she didn't have the chance because she had made the mistake of befriending the big dumb oaf.

And so she resented them. It wasn't entirely fair, but, well, life isn't fair. Besides which, she clearly wasn't the only one. Not if the argument a few minutes ago was anything to go by.

She hadn't intended for it to turn into an argument. Not really. But, well, she had some longstanding bad habits. It seemed like she instinctively picked the most drama queen moments to do just about anything she ever did, and announcing her decision to abandon this place she hated and never look back was apparently her crowning achievement.

Which had gotten her in trouble. Again. And this time she had dragged her pack right along with her. Which, if anything, made it even worse. For all that she maintained that the friction in their relationships was absolutely not her fault, this particular situation was. Which they had every right to call her out on, of course. But then they would follow it up by blaming the whole damn thing on her. Of course they would. No mention of Ursula and Vienna's roles in escalating things, or of the years and years of mounting tensions between them. No, it was all Erin's fault because her personality is somewhat abrasive and that makes her such a fucking great scapegoat.

“I have done nothing wrong,” she stated bluntly, glowering indignantly at the school's counsellor. She intended to take this opportunity to nip such scapegoating in the bud.

“Like hell you have!” Ursula snapped right back. “You started the whole damn thing!”

“I merely stated the fact that I intended to go to college in Locksmouth, darling.” Erin replied with a practised coldness. “In case you somehow weren't aware, we are one year away from graduation and there is no college in Esterwood.”

“Oh, fuck off with that bullshit, you were absolutely trying to start shit and you know it!”

“Girls!” Erin and Ursula clammed up, turning their attention back to Dr. Baas. “You're already in trouble, please do not actively attempt to make it worse.”

“Yes, ma'am,” the four girls replied in unison. Erin winced as she said it. It made her feel like a child.  And she was decidedly not a child – in a few months she would be nineteen. Certainly, she was past the age when it was appropriate to reply to a teacher in unison with her classmates.

“What are we going to do with you all?” Dr. Baas glared at them, somewhere between tired anger and reluctant disappointment, and Erin found it difficult to keep looking her in the eye. Dr. Baas had that way about her. Doctor Basilisk, was the mental nickname Erin had given to her in middle school. A big, angry snake who turned people to stone with a glare. Fitting, though she had never bothered to share the nickname with anyone else. Partly out of fear of getting in trouble, partially because she doubted anyone other than her would understand the reference.

“If this were the first incident of this kind, I wouldn't be quite so concerned. But you four have been at each other's throats almost every day for the past year and that simply isn't healthy.” Dr. Baas calmly rose to her feet, standing up and up and up. She towered over even most of the faculty except for Mrs. Rothschild. It was very easy for the children under her care to be intimidated, something that she took advantage of as the primary disciplinarian in Esterwood's one educational facility. She accented it by flaring her hood and flicking her tongue in irritation. “Your grades have mostly held steady, which kept me from intervening properly sooner. But this just isn't healthy for any of you.”

Erin found her mind wandering back to biology class in sophomore year, on the subject of the anatomy of post-splice humans in relation to the animals whose genetics they had borrowed centuries ago to survive an apocalypse. They shared many instincts and physical attributes with their animal counterparts, but many specific things had been quietly edited out. Chief among those was predator/prey instincts. It wouldn't do to have snakes eating mice in anything other than a euphemistic sense. Besides which, in the wild king cobras mostly ate other snakes, not mice.

Of course, in this particular moment, you sure could have fucking fooled Erin. Even Ursula had her tail visibly quivering between her legs.

One particularly notable physical trait that Dr. Baas shared with her wild counterpart was sheer size. The vast majority of snakes tended towards being enormous. Wild king cobras could reach fourteen feet long, though the human half of the equation tended to tone down larger species' sizes. As it was, she was only a foot and a half taller than Erin. Much of that was her neck, long and serpentine – though, again, not quite as long as Mrs. Rothschild's. There were outliers, of course. Erin herself was six feet tall, despite being a mouse.

But, well, that was besides the point, and a subject she didn't particularly want to dwell on at the moment. Especially since she really should have been paying more attention to Dr. Baas.

“Which is why, starting tomorrow, I am going to be amending your schedules. Whatever class you have for your final period, you will no longer be participating in. Instead, you will be performing community service under my direct personal supervision. Think of it as a team-building exercise.”

“What?!” The words felt like a sucker punch directly to her solar plexus, pushing her back and up with sheer outrage. “I need that Pre-Splice Literature 102 credit for my college application!”

“Well, perhaps you should have thought of that.”

“Before what?! Before I dared to not get along with every person I meet?” Erin found herself being filled with newfound confidence, fuelled by righteous indignation at the situation she found herself in.

“Yes, in fact, Miss Leroux,” Dr. Baas replied coldly, pressing the screen of her PET several times, presumably to bring up Erin's record. “Not only do you not get along with every person you meet, in fact you pointedly seem to antagonize them, actively or passively. In spite of what you seem to think, that kind of attitude will not serve you very well once you graduate. Not here, and certainly not in Locksmouth.”

“I- you- you can't-” Erin sputtered indignantly. “You have no right-”

“I can and I do, young lady,” Dr. Baas replied succinctly, leaning closer to loom over the much smaller mouse. “Sit. Down. Now.”

“... yes, ma'am.”

Dr. Baas sighed, almost relieved. “Don't think I'm singling out Miss Leroux. All of you are at least partially to blame.” She returned to her seat, tenting her fingers like some kind of goddamn supervillain. Her glasses finished the image by glinting slightly in the sunlight. “I don't expect you to be able to repair all the damage you've done to your friendship in the time between now and the end of the school year. But I expect you all to at least behave like goddamn adults. Am I clear?”

“Yes ma'am,” they replied, again in unison. Ursula had a Look on her face, like she wanted to say something. But she apparently decided against it, lest she be made an example of the way Erin had been.

“I expect you all to stop by my office before classes begin tomorrow morning so we can discuss the finer details of your punishment.” Dr. Baas finished. “And if any of you cause any further problems today, expect a suspension for all of you. Dismissed.”

~~~~~~ 

As a child, Ursula had struggled to understand how something like boxing could exist. It struck her as unfair that if she punched someone in the ring for fun it was perfectly fine, but to punch someone who threatened her or her friends was unacceptable. Even as an adult, the concept of combat sports seemed fundamentally incompatible with human society. There were inertial dampeners, of course. But having such a foolproof safety net if anything encouraged the fighters to get more brutal, not less. Maybe other domes were just more lenient when it came to violence. Or perhaps it was just some fundamental aspect of human nature that no amount of gene splicing could eradicate entirely. She didn't really care all that much about the philosophical implications. She just liked punching things. It was good stress relief.

And lord knows she needed some stress relief.

“Raghhhhh!” she shouted in time with a full-force right hook that would have been frankly overkill were this a match and not just beating up a punching bag. It swung away gently, and then forward, perfectly colliding with a left haymaker that was frankly even more impractical. In a match, this kind of relentless full-power offence would have left her exhausted and open to everything her opponent could throw at her. But this wasn't a real match, and this wasn't her practising for a real match either. This was a workout. And, if she was brutally honest with herself, an excuse to lose her temper.

Ursula had always struggled with anger management. She had a foul temper, a short fuse, and poor impulse control, which often got her in trouble as a child. And by often, she meant almost constantly. Boxing had been Dr. Baas's idea. A constructive outlet for her aggression, had been the idea. Her parents had initially been against it – in her father's words, conditioning a kid to let out negative emotions with violence was a terrible idea, safety gear or not. But then Ursula had actually tried it, and it turned out that she was very good at it. And, more to the point, she enjoyed it. No one involved had the heart to tell her she had to stop.

Ursula threw several more punches, the adrenaline coursing through her veins making it feel as though she were moving in slow motion. Though, actually, that probably resulted more from the fact that her inertial dampener was turned up to its highest setting. She was not, technically, supposed to do that. But even on the normal setting, fighting with inertial dampeners on was akin to punching while submerged in molasses until you got used to it. It made fighting almost impossible, so she spent time training on the higher settings. It helped with moving more naturally on the lower settings, which made fights look better.

Plus it made for good strength training. Like weighted clothing but more high-tech. If she could punch hard enough for the bag to swing at all with the dampeners on high, well, that meant you really didn’t want to be on the receiving end of a punch with them on low or off without dampeners of your own. Another frustrated roar, another reckless punch, alternating back and forth in perfect rhythm.

“You should probably cool down a bit. Don’t want you hurtin’ yourself, kiddo.”

Ursula grunted. “I know my limits, coach.”

“Ain’t talkin’ to you as your coach. This is a dad conversation.”

“Okay well I don’t really need a dad conversation right now,” she replied tersely, throwing another right.

“I’ll be the judge ‘a that, hon,” her father replied. Coach Eckstein, much like his daughter, was very large. Tall and muscular, a veritable Adonis of a great dane. Most of her class, that she knew of, had had crushes on him at some point when they were younger – which completely baffled her, frankly. There were even a few people who seemed to still have a thing for him, which baffled her even more. Maybe it was just personal bias, because he was her dad and there was that inherent revulsion to the very thought of viewing him in a sexual light. Or maybe it was because she knew him much better than the rest of the school. To them he was the big buff gym coach with the sexy cowboy drawl. To her he was her big dork of a dad. “I heard about what happened.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Ursula replied in between laboured breaths.

Her father gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’re gonna hafta talk about it eventually, hon. Might as well be now.”

“Augh fine whatever. There’s nothing to talk about. I got into a fight with my friends and we got in trouble and now we’re doing community service, I guess?”

“Look, hon-”

“I get it, okay? You don’t need to rub it in.”

“Ain’t rubbin’ it in, hon.” He sighed. “It ain’t that any of them are bad kids. It’s just... Speakin’ as your coach, I just wanna see you succeed. And speakin’ as your dad, I just want you to be happy. So when I see you spending time with people who just make you miserable, I’ve gotta speak up and say somethin’.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that for much longer,” Ursula muttered in response, words tainted with no small amount of bitterness. “Erin’s going to be leaving for Locksmouth once the school year’s up, and I don’t know or care what the twins intend to do with their lives. So congratulations, I’m no longer gonna be a part of that circle of friends you disapprove of so much.”

“It ain’t that simple, Lula.” Ursula winced slightly at the childhood pet name. “An alpha shouldn’t just give up because things are tough.”

“Okay fine. What should I do?”

“I can’t decide that for you.” He gently tousled her hair. “Ain’t that easy, kiddo. You’ve gotta figure it out for yourself.”

“Gee, thanks for the solid advice. I suddenly know exactly what to do to solve all my problems.”

“That’s what dads are for.”

“What about coaches?”

“Well, speakin’ as your coach, I’d advise you to stop settin’ your dang inertial dampeners too high or you’ll hurt yourself.”

Ursula rolled her eyes. “Okay, is there any version of you I can talk to who will give me helpful advice?”

“Well, you could talk to me as a bartender, but that’s still a few years off.”

“Dad I’m eighteen.”

“No booze or mixers ‘til you’re an adult.”

“Dad I’m eighteen.”

“Bein’ eighteen doesn’t make you an adult, hon. I’m the judge ‘a that.” Ursula rolled her eyes again, and he responded with friendly laughter. “You should prolly take five, cool off a bit. Ain’t good to work out full blast with no breaks. ‘specially not when you’re in a bad mood.”

“... fine. You’re right.”

“I’m your dad. I always am. ‘sides, looks like someone wants to talk with you.” He gestured with his head to Viola, who was standing awkwardly at the bleachers. “You two go talk, I’ve got teacher stuff to deal with.” She stared in her general direction, red eyes as wide as dinner plates. Ursula must have been more engrossed in her workout than she thought. Viola stood out when you noticed her – her fur pattern made fading into the background incredibly difficult. So it was easy to sometimes forget that she was small (or at least short), and was very good at being quiet. When she wanted to be stealthy, she was surprisingly good at it.

Upon noticing that Ursula had noticed her, Viola eeped and averted her gaze. Ursula winced slightly at that. She was used to people being intimidated by her, but it still hurt a bit when it was her packmates. “Hey, Viola. ‘Sup?” She walked towards the smaller bun, resolving to staunchly ignore how obviously intimidated she was.

“Oh, um. I just wanted to thank you for, um. F-for earlier. With the cards. And, um. And stuff.” It took far longer for Viola to say than it by all rights should have. She stuttered and stammered and fiddled with her ears and stared at her feet. She seemed to shrink into her hoodie, which wasn’t helped by the fact that it was at least a size too big for her. Ursula was fairly sure that was the only outfit the kid even owned. Her mind conjured an image of a massive wardrobe, containing only dark grey hoodies with a cartoon magician hat logo and green sweatpants that were probably also meant to be loose-fitting but struggled against Viola’s generous hippage.

Ursula was a fan of Viola’s generous hippage, though she wasn’t quite confident enough to say so.

“Ah, hey, it’s no big deal. I was the one who knocked ‘em over anyway.”

“You didn’t mean to. You were just upset. We all were.”

“Yeah, but I still shoulda been more careful. You didn’t lose any, did you?”

“No, they’re all accounted for. Four suits of thirteen plus both jokers. I double checked, just to be sure.”

“All of ‘em? That’s, uh, a lot of cards to count.”

“It’s only fifty four.” Viola frowned slightly, still pointedly not making eye contact. “It’s important.”

Ursula nodded. She’d never really understood the whole card thing. If she was honest, which she would absolutely never do out loud, it was kinda weird. Creepy pre-splice rituals that she insisted weren’t real magic but also refused to explain. That, plus her distinctive harlequin fur pattern and imaginary friend had played a big part in making her such a bully magnet. The imaginary friend had, at least, gone away eventually – probably due to the threat of some time in the brain bullet. But, well, as cool as Viola’s card tricks were, they were weird. And Ursula got that they were some kind of weird coping mechanism. Viola was a sweetheart, really, and she didn’t have the heart to deny her her hobby.

But, well, she couldn’t help but be a little resentful that Viola seemed steadfastly uninterested in putting any effort into avoiding getting bullied. Erin’s exploitation of their relationship was so obvious that it was easy to forget sometimes that Viola wasn’t entirely innocent in that regard. But at the same time she knew that it wasn’t really Viola’s fault, and so that resentment made her feel profoundly guilty.

Ursula realized that they’d been standing in silence for an uncomfortable period of time. “Uh, come on. Let’s go sit down. I could use a bit of a break, anyway.” She switched off her inertial dampener and shrugged it off, carrying it over to the bleachers while Viola awkwardly followed.

“So, uh, seriously. Sorry about earlier.”

“Can we please not talk about it?”

Ursula sighed. “Like... I get not wanting to talk about it, really. But as much of a bitch as she is, Erin’s not wrong. We can’t put off dealing with this forever.”

Viola cringed, and Ursula immediately felt guilty. “Sorry. I know it’s not really very helpful to just ignore it, but I don’t really know what else to do.”

“We can’t keep sweeping it under the rug forever.”

“I just... Wish things could go back to how they were.”

Ursula shrugged. “Maybe they can? Like, who knows, maybe Dr. Baas’s weird community service thing will actually work. Who fucking knows, you know?”

“It’s just... really hard to deal with.”

“We can’t keep ignoring it.”

“I know, and I’m trying my best, but-”

“Could’a fooled me.” Immediately as the words left her mouth, Ursula regretted them. “... Sorry.”

But it was too late. “I should really get going. It’s my free period, but I’ve got some homework I should be doing.”

Viola got up and left before Ursula had a chance to stop her. Not that it would have helped much – she wasn’t really enthused with the probability of making things worse. She just sat there sadly, watching her packmate leave.

“... god dammit,” she muttered. She rose to her feet slowly, her muscles still sore from her earlier workout. Resolutely, she picked up her inertial dampener and slid it back on, the straps nestling comfortably over the straps of her sports bra. It was a little archaic, and she knew it didn’t actually offer more support than a normal tank top. But it felt like it did, and she found that made a difference when working out as intensely as she intended to.

Because lord fucking knows she needed some stress relief.

~~~~~~ 

Vienna intended to keep her head down as she travelled to chemistry. She wasn’t normally particularly invested in keeping a low profile, but. Well. Today wasn’t a day when she particularly wanted to get involved in any more conflict.

“So I heard you got in trouble.”

But, of course, it was never that easy. “Fuck off, Vicky.”

“Excuse you, I haven’t even done anything yet. And it’s Victoria to you. Only my friends get to call my Vicky.”

“Vicky you don’t have any friends.” Vienna had known Vicky for their entire lives. The same applied to most of the student body, really. Esterwood wasn’t a very large dome, and it only had the one educational facility. There were still enough kids, though, that most of them blended into the background except for the ones who made themselves memorable. And Vicky was one of those.

She was, to put things poetically, a bitch in sheep’s clothing. It was also a fairly apt literal description of her, in that she was a sheep and also a huge bitch.

“Wow, that was entirely uncalled for. I am shocked at this unprompted venom.”

Vienna pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, can we please just skip this? Please?”

“Ugh, fine. If you’re not gonna be any fun about it then there’s no point.” Vicky slumped. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. At least give me something to work with.”

“No.”

“Pffft, fine. Killjoy.”

Vienna groaned. “If you want a reaction out of me you’re gonna have to come up with better material.”

“Look, they can’t all be gems. Besides, it’s not my fault you’re so dull.”

“Excuse me?”

“I think I’m literally the only person in school who even knows your name. You don’t exactly stand out.”

Vicky wasn’t exactly the worst bully in the world. She wasn’t even really much of a bully – like Erin, she just seemed to have a bit of an abrasive personality. But every now and then she seemed to succeed at hitting a nerve. “I stand out plenty.”

“Please. Viola does creepy occult shit and talks to mirrors. Ursula could bench press a small building and goes around beating people up for fun. Erin is a six foot tall mouse with tits the size of her head. What are you? A low-rent version of Viola with a marginally better fashion sense, at best.”

Vienna stopped. Her body shook, not with fear but with something else. Something between indignation, rage, and the quiet realization that Vicky wasn’t entirely wrong.

“What was that about needing better material?”

“Okay. Fine. You fucking win. I’m reacting. Look at me, I’m rising to the bait. Fuckin’ whee.”

“Oh come on, you can do better than that.” She sighed, shaking her head in exaggerated disappointment. “You know what, though,” she said, smirking slightly and opening a single eye to look down at Vienna. “If you’re so hung up on standing out, the offer’s still on the table.”

“What offer?” Vienna asked, already knowing the answer. She found that playing along with Vicky’s antics tended to make her more likely to leave you alone sooner.

“Ditch your loser friends and join my pack.”

“God. What pack?! No one can stand you.”

It was Vicky’s turn to get defensive. “Hey, I’ve got a pack.”

“Yeah, right. Let me guess, they all live in other domes or something? Because I genuinely can’t think of anything resembling a pack you might be a part of.”

Vicky clicked her tongue in irritation. “Look, you’ve got potential. You’re almost a normal person, the only problem is you hang out with a buncha freaks.” Vienna winced at the word, and Vicky seemed to take pause at that. “... Weirdos. You know, social outcasts? So, like, that’s the offer. Let them fend for themselves and hang out with normal people. You’ve still got that chance.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m trying to help you here, you know? At least show some gratitude.”

“Fuck you,” Vienna replied forcefully, jabbing Vicky in a boob to emphasize her point. “I’m not just throwing Viola to the wolves because she’s weird, okay? And I’m not abandoning my friends, either.”

“That’s fair, I guess. But I was under the impression you all weren’t friends. You don’t do the best job of hiding the fact you hate each other, you know.”

“... I’m not abandoning my sister.”

That, again, seemed to give Vicky pause. “... Fine. Offer’s still on the table, but I won’t push the issue.” She turned and gave Vienna a dismissive wave goodbye. “Tell the f- the weirdos I said hi.”

“Fuck you,” Vienna replied as Vicky’s wave morphed into a middle finger. So much for avoiding conflict. But at least it was only Vicky. There were far worse people she could imagine having bumped into – like Ursula, or Erin, to name a few.

“... I wanna go home,” she muttered to herself as she resumed the arduous trek to chemistry.

It was going to be a long fucking day.

~~~~~~ 

Being the primary authority figure for every single student in Esterwood’s solitary educational facility was something of a heavy burden. Dr. Baas liked to imagine she did the best possible job she could, given the circumstances, but it wasn’t reasonable to expect her to perfectly deal with every child’s issues. She was, at least, not completely on her own in that regard. The school had about as robust a faculty as was possible given the limited pool of potential teachers it had to pull from. They all did a fantastic job, given the situation. But, at the end of the day they were all people who, for whatever reason, wouldn’t or couldn’t get teaching jobs at bigger, better schools in bigger, better domes. Especially her.

She tried not to think about that, to do her best to prepare the children under her care for the adult world. But there was always that lingering fear that she wasn’t good enough. Especially whenever there was conflict. She was good at dealing with the logistical side of the equation. When it came to running the school, she was competent and efficient. But no one in Esterwood wore just one hat. There simply weren’t enough people. And while she would be the first to admit that she was underqualified to act as a guidance counsellor, she had ended up saddled with that job. She remained staunchly determined to do her best, and in most aspects that was enough. She was good at helping students decide what they wanted to do with their lives, on what classes to take, on how to deal with a heavy course load and how to balance their personal and academic lives.

Where she began to struggle was dealing with interpersonal conflict. It was, thankfully, quite rare – Esterwood was a very tight knit community, and most people were perfectly capable of dealing with their issues with each other on their own by the time their conflicts became more complex than not having figured out the concept of sharing just yet. But there would always be students who didn’t fit in to the community. Outsiders, black sheep., misfits. People like Lars Nilsen, or Victoria Ares. Or, most relevantly, Ursula Eckstein, Erin Leroux, and the Coniglio twins. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t help them. Sometimes it felt like she just made things worse.

“Dan, am I bad at my job?”

“Mary, I came in the door ‘bout five seconds ago. Can we maybe say ‘howdy’ first?”

“Sorry, you caught me in the middle of an existential crisis.”

“You’re not bad at your job, Mary,” Dan said with weary reassurance. “Though I do wanna have words with you, as a parent.” He took a seat across the desk from her and gave her a Glare.

“Ugh, you know I’m no good at dealing with parents.”

“How about we talk as friends, then?”

“That’s slightly better.” Mary pulled herself upright, un-burying her head from her hands. “Look, I-”

“It’s fine, Mary. You need to stop second-guessing yourself. I’m a bit annoyed, but I gotta admit Lula could use some character buildin’.”

“I know, I know, but...” she sighed, drooping back into her chair. “It just seems a bit much, you know?”

“We all knew we needed to do somethin’.”

“Yeah, but I still can’t help but feel like that one teacher who transparently doesn’t like a student and treats them unfairly.”

Dan took a moment to respond, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “Well, do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Not like the girls?”

“What? No! Of course not!”

“Well, there you go.” He smiled and nodded.

“That doesn’t make me feel much better, Dan.”

“Listen, people don’t like gettin’ told off, no matter what. If y’think you’re bein’ too strict, tone it down a little next time, maybe take back the threat ‘a suspension. But you still gotta punish the people who need punishing. And, much as I hate to admit that my girl’s been causin’ problems, havin’ big public shouting matches every other day ain’t somethin’ you can just let slide.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Always am.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “Alright, if you’re so smart, what should I do next?”

“Well, speakin’ as a teacher, I’d say stick to your guns for now. The girls could use a bit of hard work to put things in perspective ‘n teach ‘em to cooperate.”

“God, I can’t believe I’m having to be talked into going through with something that was my idea in the first place.”

“And, speakin’ as a parent, maybe take the opportunity to talk to ‘em and actually figure out what the problem is before tryin’ to fix it.”

Mary winced. “Okay, point taken. I might have rushed things a bit.”

Dan opened his mouth to reply, but stopped when the door to the office opened. “Oh, is this a bad time?” The two turned to look at the tall giraffe woman, poking her head in slightly. Lisa Rothschild was a very, very large woman. Tall and wide, she had something of a commanding presence by virtue of being huge. Which made the way she sheepishly leaned into the room somewhat funny. Mary stifled a giggle, and Dan nodded, pulling himself to his feet.

“Nah, I was just about to leave.”

“Okay! I just wanted to run over the budget for new chemistry equipment again real quick before class.”

“Y’all talk about that, I should get back to my class, make sure none of ‘em have set the school on fire.”

Mary nodded as Dan left and Lisa entered. Dan was right. The best thing to do for now was to stick with her guns while she figured out a real, permanent solution. “There’s not a huge amount of wiggle room in the budget, but I think we can shuffle a few things around and make some room if we get creative,” she said, putting everything else out of her mind.

This was her element.

~~~~~~

Viola had lied, a little bit. It was her free period, and she did have homework to do. But she had not left to do it. Which, really, was probably obvious. She doubted that Ursula didn’t know she’d been looking for an excuse to leave. But, well, she didn’t want to say it. It was just awkward and she couldn’t stand it.

She had not left because of what Ursula said, though it still stung. Not because she was wrong, but because she was right and Viola didn’t particularly want to admit it. When she really sat down and thought about it, asked herself if she really was trying her best, the answer was no. Not for a lack of willingness, of course. She just didn’t know what to do. Was at a complete and utter loss. Can’t try if you don’t know what you’re trying. No real fault of hers, but that didn’t stop her from blaming herself.

But again, that was not why she had left.

“Oral code: 8643. Sensitivity profile ‘Stress Relief’.”

It was a bad habit Viola had developed a long time ago, and had never really managed to shake. It all came back to Vienna, really. Where most teens had a healthy interest in the opposite sex, the same sex, and sex just sort of in general, Vienna pointedly didn’t. It wasn’t something any of them judged her for too harshly. She was, after all, hardly the only person in the world who was uninterested in OC. That wasn’t a problem. The emphatic degree to which she was reluctant was unusual for someone who ostensibly just had a low sex-drive, but there was nothing wrong with not wanting sex in and of itself. Vienna had her reasons, and Viola knew them and respected them.

The problem, at least from Viola’s point of view, was that Viola didn’t have a low sex-drive. In fact, just the opposite. Which was why she was in the bathroom, in a locked stall, masturbating in the middle of the school day. Her breath came quickly and heavily as she tried her best not to make too much noise. She could, she supposed, always ask Erin or Ursula to help her with this particular problem. But, well, disregarding the fact that it was probably too late for that to be an option on the table, it felt weird to have OC when Vienna wouldn’t. So she didn’t and she hated it.

“Ah-ah-ahnnnnn fuck~” she groaned as she finished. The itch hadn’t been scratched, but it had been... dealt with. For the time being at least. It would come back, she knew it would, but hopefully she’d held it off until she got home, where she could afford to be a bit more thorough. Most of the time she was capable of holding out for the course of the school day, but then again most of the time she didn’t end up encountering Ursula wearing very skimpy workout clothing and in the middle of an intense workout. The way her muscles rippled as she punched was enchanting. And then she’d gotten close and oh god she was sweaty and still wearing very little clothing. Viola had taken the first excuse to leave, before she broke down right in the middle of the damn gym.

She slumped back against the wall as her muscles gave out, just barely supported enough to not slide off the toilet. She took a moment to calm down, her breathing slowly returning to a normal pace. God, why did she do this to herself? This wasn’t a problem, except that she made it one. She was hardly the only person in the world with an overactive libido, but anyone else would solve the problem with lots and lots of casual sex with their friends and the occasional attractive and consenting stranger.

But Viola’s pack weren’t an option, and-

Well, there weren’t many who fit all three categories in Esterwood. For reasons that were mostly entirely Viola’s fault. She had a... reputation, and not an entirely undeserved one. For a variety of reasons that she didn’t particularly want to think about, so instead she worked up the energy to get up, and after a moment to steady her still somewhat shaky legs, unlocked the stall and left.

And then promptly froze.

In other circumstances, Lars Nilsen would probably have gravitated towards Ursula for the same reasons Viola and Erin had. He was very lanky, unathletic. Like Viola, he wasn’t really capable of defending himself against anyone who decided to turn to physical violence. And, also like Viola, he was a bit of a weirdo. He went a bit more all-in on the aesthetic, though. He had died his fur bone-white, and his mane jet-black with a few bright red streaks, and his wardrobe consisted almost entirely of those same colours. Big, heavy black boots with lots of straps. Tight-fitting black fishnet leggings, over which he wore a slightly translucent black skirt. A black vest with white horizontal stripes that were probably intentionally reminiscent of a ribcage worn over a sleeveless red dress shirt, with black leather arm coverings. He was currently looking in the mirror, touching up his heavy black eyeliner.

Viola briefly considered ducking back into the bathroom stall until he left. That plan evaporated into nothing when he made eye contact with her in the mirror and glowered sullenly. “Viola.”

“Um, h-hi, Lars. I was just-”

“Don’t care,” he snapped. “Heard what happened. It’s your fault, you know.”

“Huh?”

Lars turned around dramatically (he had always had a flair for the dramatic) and strode over to where she stood in a few long steps. “You heard me.”

“I, uh, I don’t...” Viola found herself trailing off as she gazed up at the larger boy. With how slender his build was, it was easy to forget that he was very slightly taller than even Ursula. That he was a lion. In the wild, they were apex predators. That didn’t apply to humans, of course, but Lars was still deceptively large and intimidating when he wanted to be. Especially factoring in that Viola was not large – she just barely came up to the middle of his chest.

Lars loomed. “I try to warn you. But you just don’t listen. You keep messing with forces you don’t understand, and then you act surprised when they bite back.”

“I, um. Th-they’re just-”

“Just what? Tricks?” Lars frowned deeply. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. But if they’re really fake then it’d prolly be real fucking easy to prove me wrong.”

“Th-that’s not... You’re not supposed to, that’s not the point.”

“Yeah sure that’s real fucking convenient,” Lars spat. “You can claim it’s fake all you want, but who’s more credible. Some high school kid or well documented historical fact?”

“It’s not historical fact!” It was Viola’s turn to snap. “It’s just a bunch of stuff people made up in the Neo-Victorian age to sell cards! Magic isn’t real!”

“Tell that to the ancient shamans who created the art. Houdini would probably laugh in your face and then curse you and all your descendants.”

“No he wouldn’t! That probably wasn’t even his real name!”

“Maybe consider reading a book at some point.”

“Maybe you should do that, and you’d realize that most of those so-called shamans dedicated their lives to proving that people who claimed magic is real were just frauds trying to take people’s money!”

Lars slammed a hand into the stall, directly to the right of Viola’s head – and pointedly directly between her and the exit of the bathroom. “Give me your cards.”

“W-what?” Viola quivered slightly at the tactile reminder that in spite of being a wimp, Lars was much taller than she was.

“You don’t deserve them. You clearly don’t care about the consequences or how you might hurt people around you so you don’t deserve them. Now give them to me!”

Viola shrank against the door of the stall, pulling her arms tightly against her body in a sort of mime hug. She slipped one of her hands into the pocket of her hoodie and grabbed tightly onto her deck. “N-no. They’re mine. You can’t have them.”

“Fine, then I’ll just take them by force.”

Lars lunged forward, grabbing at Viola – and then, with a lurch, his face slammed directly into the stall door. Hard. He staggered backwards in a daze from the impact, pulled along by Erin, who was holding him by the back of his head. “Don’t you fucking dare,” she hissed, tossing him away from Viola. He clutched his nose, a thin trail of blood running down his face.

“Fuck off, Leroux. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Oh, it doesn’t? Well, why don’t we go tell Ursula exactly what it was that you were doing. Though I doubt we’ll need to. I may not be as strong as her, but I believe I am more than a match for you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Leave, Lars. Now.”

Lars growled, his tail twitching back and forth violently. “... Fine. But whatever happens to you from now on is on your head.” With that, he turned and  stormed out of the bathroom.

Erin let loose a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. “Oh thank god,” she muttered – all bravado aside, she was uncertain that she could actually take Lars in a fistfight. She turned to focus on Viola, who had curled up into a fetal position and was sobbing gently.

Erin crouched down and gently stroked her head. “Shhhhhhh, it’s alright. He’s gone now. He won’t hurt you, I promise.” She slowly pulled Viola into a hug, and let the smaller girl gently sob into her shoulder for however long she needed.

It turned out that Viola didn’t need particularly long. “... Thanks.”

“I... Just happened to be in the area. That’s all.” Erin shuffled awkwardly after they both returned to their feet. “I, um. Heard you shouting, and I was worried.”

“You didn’t have to help.”

“Yes, well...” Erin sighed. “Look. My grievances are with Ursula and with your sister. Not with you. We may be dysfunctional, but we’re still a pack. And packmates should stand up for each other.”

“Yes, well. Thanks all the same.” The conversation once again dried up. “... Could, um. Could I maybe get a little bit of time alone? I need to think.”

Erin gently placed a hand on Viola’s shoulder. “Oh, darling, I can understand that you might want some time to recover after being menaced by that brute. But I need to pee.”

“... Oh.”

“That’s kind of why I just happened to be in the area.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be out of your hair!”

Erin quickly stepped around Viola and into the now vacant stall, closing the door and locking it behind her. Viola fidgeted slightly as she waited for Erin to finish her business, before deciding not to wait. She walked up to the sink and turned it on, cupping her hands beneath it and then splashing the gathered water on her face to wash away the remains of her tears.

She looked up and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Most of the obvious signs that she had been crying again had been washed away, though her eyes were still slightly bloodshot. “... What am I doing wrong?” she muttered to herself.

“I’m not going to be much help in that regard,” her reflection replied. “Besides which, I thought you promised not to talk to me anymore?”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, I just... need someone to talk to, I guess.”

Her reflection had taken on a different appearance. The same shape, outlined with a deep green and filed in with a translucent, shimmering blue. Like a pair of mirrors placed next to each other. “Viola...”

“Look, I know, okay? People are going to think I’m crazy. But you know what, people already think I’m crazy. And maybe they’re right because it’s been years and yet here you are, the very minute I want to talk to you.” She slumped forward slightly. “Maybe some time in the bullet would do me some good.”

“You know you don’t believe that.” She sighed. “If you want, we can talk more later. At home, in private.”

“... Yeah. Yeah, okay.” She smiled weakly. “I’ll see you then, Aubrey.”

“Likewise. Now, you still have homework to do, so you should go do that!”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Fine. Mom would kill me if I didn’t finish it anyway.” With that, her reflection returned to normal, and she turned and left.

A few moments later, Erin emerged from her stall and sighed wearily. “Oh, Viola,” she muttered. She worried about the girl, and this only served to make her worry more. She’d thought Viola had stopped with that Aubrey Kadabra nonsense. Not only did that appear to not be the case, it almost seemed like it was worse. After all, though Erin had never actually directly encountered Viola and Aubrey speaking back when she did so on a regular basis, she had been thoroughly informed of the nature of their conversations. And no one had ever mentioned the mirror talking back. Clearly Viola had started actually filling in the other half of the conversation.

It was worrying, but what was more worrying was the prospect of Viola being taken away. Erin nodded, filled with a newfound resolve. She would keep Viola’s secret for her, at least for now, and confront her over it later. Her decision made, she quickly washed her hands and left.

And, unbeknownst to her, her own reflection lingered behind. Just for a moment.