Over the course of the next couple of hours, while the adventurers were barred from progressing deeper into the bowels of the machine fortress, the council of Anastacia continued to bring up, vote and decide on matters that ranged vastly in complexity, but seemed all oddly unimportant to Emilia, who was following the entire process from Violet’s side and was understandably heedful of not messing with the workings of her friend’s personality. Working color combinations for clothes, the official favorite food of Anastacia, perfect length for socks, rankings among different types of bread and several other matters were brought up by the Anastacia leading the meeting.
Curiously enough, whenever one of the other fragments of personality brought up something that would have actually mattered to any extent, Violet immediately shot down any attempts to discuss them by putting all the emphasis on the ridiculous but minor spins each of the fragments put into their otherwise sensible suggestions based on their own purposes.
Indigo tried to start a conversation about the tension between Anastacia and the new inquisition a few times, and wanted to reach a decision on how they should treat the other necromancers in the future, as well as figure out if some of the coldness could have really been Anastacia’s fault to any degree. But every time the motion was put forth, Violet would push one of her own pointless agendas instead.
Visibly frustrated by this, Red got up from her seat and started to wander around the chamber, not even bothering to return to vote anymore. Eventually she sat down in the corner and began polishing the crystal daggers she carried.
Emilia was immediately worried that the personification of Anastacia’s pent up anger was plotting something and decided to try approaching the surly crimson necromancer.
“Mind if I join you?” The priestess asked and sat down next to Red. She placed down her mace and started to rub it with a piece of cloth she kept with her.
“What I mind and don’t mind are generally not respected in these parts, so do what you want.” Red answered grumpily but at least didn’t seem to get more annoyed by the prospect of having company.
Unsure of how to start a conversation, Emilia kept quiet for a couple of minutes and kept an eye on the necromancer, looking for an opening of any kind. Finally, one was given to her by Violet saying something Red particularly disagreed with and causing the manifestation of anger to squeeze her fist hard enough that it started to shake.
“That Violet, huh?” The priestess chuckled.
“She is simply doing her job – her absolutely enraging job that makes me want to carve the mauve marbles she calls eyes out of her skull.” Red growled and showed her teeth.
By then, Emilia had a pretty good grasp about the purpose of each Anastacia, aside from the yellow one at least, but finding out the specifics while distracting Red seemed like a good idea. “What’s her job then? I figured she was Anastacia’s reason or wisdom – if you can call it that.” She asked.
“Part of it, yes, but her whole rage inducing job is to keep the others at bay. She keeps Indigo from getting Anastacia hurt by trying to balance her compassion with skepticism, she keeps Blue at bay with hope, Green’s clothes on with self-control, Orange’s bottomless jealousy and greed in check with charity and even thinks my anger is under her control. She’s not great at her job, but she outranks them and has become powerful over the years, a bit too powerful if you ask me.” Red hissed with a fair amount of hate behind every word.
“Wait. You’re telling me that Anastacia’s self-control is too strong? Because trust me, that’s not what comes across on most days.” The priestess laughed heartily and started to get curious.
Red placed down the first of the daggers and picked up the second one to polish. “Yes, but it’s always about meaningless things, is it not? Not having to wear shoes, goblin things, petty insults and mockery, that’s what Violet distracts the others with, meanwhile, she’s left Anastacia with massive difficulties when deciding actually meaningful things that aren’t crystal clear from the beginning. If you’ve seen her decide something, but only after getting annoyed or angry about it, that’s me, pressing the matter. Anything that has a chance of rocking the boat is going to get silenced by her.”
“Take the inquisition for example, part of Anastacia wants to get rid of them and the rest want to consider them as allies of sorts, but she will never make the decision and will simply wait until the circumstances make it for her.” She explained and skillfully spun the dagger in her hand. “With me in the reins, she could have easily kept both sides of the Mournvalleyan civil war out of her life, but instead she ended up getting pushed around until she could be guilt-tripped into doing something and acted like the decision was out of her hands. She wants freedom, but thanks to Violet, she’s unable to make herself free of bullshit like that. So the most powerful necromancer in the world somehow still gets pushed around.”
“She can be pretty indecisive at times, I suppose, but I don’t think it’s that bad.” Emilia half agreed while recalling the events from months ago.
Red scoffed. “Just hope it’s not your life that’s in danger when she needs to choose between two equally shitty options.” She shrugged and pointed the knife at Emilia. “Mark my words: the longer this goes on, the worse it’ll get. For the first fifteen years of our existence, Violet needed to be strong to keep me from turning the entire Mournvalley into a red streak on the map on the good days, and on others, she was the one making sure Anastacia didn’t crack, which is when she gained her power and position over the others. But those days are over now, and I have no intention to surface until I’m needed, Violet just refuses to ease her grasp because she fears the entire thread will unravel.”
“I see…” The priestess nodded. “You’re awfully wordy for what you’re supposed to be.” She changed the subject and tried to commend the embodiment of anger. She was starting to suspect that Anastacia being who she was had more to do with sensibleness of the fragment she was talking to than the others around the table.
Noticing some kind of an imperfection in the blade, Red scrubbed it with a bit more vigor than before and started to get agitated. However, she soon noticed her temperament heating up and lowered the weapon to calm herself.
“If I wasn’t, world would be a different place by now.” She said and took a few deep breaths to resist throwing the dagger at a wall to break it. “I could still punt Violet into a corner like the puerile purple piece of shit she is, but for now, it’d do more harm to Anastacia than help. So, here I stay, vilified and lowest ranked of the seven, waiting until Violet understands that this is a team effort.”
“Well, I can only thank you for taking one for the team.” Emilia smiled and tried to pat Red on the shoulder, but as soon as her hand touched the red cloak, it clenched into a fist on its own, and in a brief flash of rage, she could feel all the pent up anger within the red necromancer looking for any opening to flood out, which they momentarily found through the priestess.
By the time Red slapped away her hand, Emilia was already drenched in sweat and shaking from exhaustion. For a moment, she had been entirely consumed by the tiniest of leaks in the turmoil Red held at bay.
“I… I’m going to recommend some chamomile tea and meditation to Anastacia once this is over.” She uttered, now fully understanding how absolutely vital the unusually cooperative red fragment of Anastacia’s personality was.
Likely physically unable to smile happily, Red responded with a smirk and quietly kept working on her weapons while the priestess recuperated from the experience.
Another hour passed and Emilia started to wonder what exactly it was that the room wanted from them before unlocking the path forward. It remained unclear if there was a timer to the necromancer’s split personality, or if there was something specific the fragments needed to do. Regardless, it was fair to assume the secret to progressing further inside had something to do with them.
King and Leggy both appeared enamored by the collection of Anastacias presented to them and didn’t lift their unblinking gazes from what was happening around the table for a moment.
Every now and then one of the unruly fragments tried to approach the simulacra but were dragged back to their place by Violet.
The violet fragment kept bringing up more and more ultimately meaningless matters and wasting time so that no important decisions could be made. Indigo tried her best to keep the infighting to a minimum while consoling Blue most of the time. Green kept bringing up wholly inappropriate subjects that were quickly shut down by everyone else, and Orange’s concerns mostly had to do with absurdly selfish problems, to a point where she started to demand a second seat around the table, and thus a second vote, since Red had left hers unattended.
During this entire time, Yellow quietly followed the situation with a completely lost look on her face, like she had been seated with a pack of insane strangers and didn’t want to draw any attention to herself.
Even when she had regained her strength, Emilia remained with the lone fragment. She felt sorry for the shunned piece of Anastacia’s personality, and wanted to keep her company for the time the necromancer was split in seven.
Suddenly, the hustle and bustle around the table turned ominously quiet.
“Red! Green’s not feeling well, we think something’s wrong!” Violet yelled worriedly and rushed out of her seat.
“Good, she sucks.” The red necromancer responded coldly and didn’t even look up to see what was happening.
“And I… do it well!” Green responded between pained groans and desperate gasps for air.
The other fragments lifted Green on the table and helplessly watched as she coughed and clawed at her chest, as if she was trying to dig something out but didn’t have the strength for it.
Violet held down one of Green’s arms to prevent her from hurting herself. “RED!” She pleaded while being kicked by the one she was trying to help.
The red necromancer sighed tiredly, packed her knives and lazily got up while Emilia rushed over to see if there was anything she could do.
Taking her time to get up the couple of stairs onto the platform and walking the long way around the table while her colleague suffered, Red finally made it to the scene. As soon as Violet moved over to give her room, Green’s foot spasmed and would have hit Red, if she hadn’t caught it.
Without hesitation, Red punched the suffering necromancer’s knee and bent her leg into the wrong direction, causing an audible crunch as the ligaments gave up. When she let go of the leg, it limply fell over the side of the table.
“WHAT THE ACTUAL DUCK, RED?!” Every other Anastacia screamed in horror.
The red necromancer shrugged. “Oh no, I broke the knee of a temporary physical manifestation of a piece of personality that will melt into the consciousness and forget this even happened in like fifteen minutes – besides, she kicked me.” She unapologetically pointed out. “Now what is it that you expect me to do about this?”
“Something!” Violet exclaimed frantically.
Red rolled her crimson eyes and pulled out one of the knives she had been polishing and swiftly jabbed Green in the chest with its pommel, causing yet another crunch as the ribs under the blow buckled.
With not at all inconsiderable force, something within Green’s chest dislodged itself and launched out of her mouth as the air escaped from her collapsing lungs. Despite the broken knee and possibly broken ribs, her suffering seemed to ease up slightly and what little color there was to the necromancer’s skin started to return as she was able to breathe a bit between the harsh fits of coughing.
“Did you really need to brutalize her like that?” Violet criticized Red’s questionable methods.
“No, not at all, but she’s not dying anymore, is she?” The red necromancer grinned and sheathed the dagger. “Maybe next time don’t let any of the gaggle of twats under you eat without adult supervision.”
The annoyance and discontent on Violet’s face were apparent and she struggled to keep what she wanted to say inside. She shook her finger at Red and furiously paced back and forth as the other fragments made sure whatever had ailed Green had passed.
While the Anastacias worked amongst themselves, Emilia and the simulacra turned their attention to whatever it was that had launched out of Green’s throat, and arched beautifully over them for several meters before slapping against the stone floor like a wet lump of paper or slime.
Roughly about the size of a fist, the ashen white lump of viscous ooze was not an insignificant thing to cough out. It slowly reformed and trembled, suggesting that it may have been more than just some kind of collection of bodily slime.
Strangely, its pearly color appeared unaffected by the dimness of the corner it had landed in or the bluish hue of the lighting, yet it didn’t shed light on its surroundings, it simply looked like it was completely out of place.
Emilia kneeled next to it and poked the lump a few times. While it stuck to her gauntlet, it didn’t hold on particularly firmly, and she was able to free her finger by simply pulling it away. She shot a quizzical glance at King, hoping the glob was somehow a part of the mechanism, but the simulacrum didn’t appear to have any idea what it was either.
As the priestess pondered if she should pick the lump up, it suddenly began to violently bubble, releasing a flood of thick, luminous white mist to its immediate surroundings.
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Odorless and at least apparently harmless mist crept along the floor, and within seconds filled the room up to Emilia’s knee – leaving the platforms the Anastacias were on as the only visible area of the floor. This caught the attention of the squabbling necromancers as well, causing some of them to take refuge on the table.
Suddenly, from the spot the slime had landed into, rose yet another Anastacia. Clad in a white cloak and with blank, white eyes, she was clearly of the same type as the other seven, but white not being a part of the rainbow, they didn’t appear to recognize the eighth one to appear. The white mist covering the floor appeared to be an extension of her cloak, as there was no visible end to the cloth, and it took a slightly translucent appearance near the bottom.
Red, Violet and curiously enough, Yellow pulled out their daggers and stood in front of the other four, prepared to defend them from the colorless one.
Still standing a mere meter from the eighth Anastacia, Emilia didn’t quite understand the reaction, as nothing about the white Anastacia appeared different or hostile – if anything, she seemed sad.
“Why do you hate me?” The new fragment wept to the other ones as her first words.
Violet lowered her blade slightly. “Who are you and what did you do to Green?!” She demanded to know instead of acknowledging the question.
The white necromancer sniffled for a while before answering. “I am a part older than any of you, one that has always been there for Anastacia, yet the one she hates the most. I have protected her without rest, without asking for anything in return, but still she hates me. Where have I gone wrong? What did I do to deserve it? I was there when her self-control emerged, I was there to see the rage grow, I was there to give Anastacia the strength to take control of her life. I don’t understand how I am flawed.” She partly answered the question and choked up for a few seconds. “The machine spread the consciousness thinly and I found the weakest, youngest part to get through, to get answers.”
“We have all the answers Anastacia has, but unless you tell us your name and purpose, you will get none.” Violet repeated her question.
“A name… I have none, so I will go by the ones she would have been called had I taken control, had I not stayed my hand and snuffed what growth you seven have achieved. I am The Anchor; I am Brume the White.” The white Anastacia declared.
Along with her words, seven gigantic skeletal arms rose from the mist surrounding the platform, as if they were being formed from the mist itself.
Proving to be of quicker wit than her sisters, Yellow leaped over the table and lobbed a fireball at the floor behind her own chair while perching herself on its backrest. The flames cleared out the mist right before the arm there was able to fully solidify and caused it to collapse back down.
Once in a better position, she also tried to toss some towards the chairs next to hers, but by then it was well too late, and the six remaining arms wrapped their boney fingers around the stone chairs of the other fragments, threatening to crush them and presumably render the machine unusable.
“Tell me, why I should let you hateful things to return within Anastacia and further poison her against me? What good have you done to her that I have not? I stand in watch day and night, I am the reason she lives her life without cowering in fear, I make sure she remains unmatched by the challenges she faces, yet she wishes me gone. Where is my mistake? WHY DOES ANASTACIA DISOWN ME?!” The fragment called Brume screamed, becoming more and more incoherent and rambling by the second.
The white fragment’s purpose was no longer a mystery to the others because they could now very clearly feel the necromantic power flooding from her and the smoke that now engulfed the room. Without having to say a word to each other, they collectively understood that what they were dealing with was the necromancer within Anastacia – or at least the part that had been split into Green by the aureun machine.
“Why is she here? This isn’t how the machine was supposed to work, she’s not one of us.” Violet whispered to Red and raised her dagger again, as if that did something.
“Green is so pathetically weak that it makes sense she couldn’t keep someone like her from surfacing after we were separated. She’s a part of all of us, but we’re strong enough to hold her back inside us – I hope at least, but you idiots are a disgrace as well, aside from Yellow.” Red theorized. “But what are we supposed to do? Try to kill her on the off chance that does anything? We can’t let her break the machine or Anastacia won’t be whole again.”
“ANSWER ME!” Brume screamed impatiently. “Tell me what I need to do! I don’t want to be hated!”
As she wailed, more skeletal appendages formed from the mist and began desperately clawing the walls of the chamber as if they were trying to escape.
Yellow and Red were able to use fire magic to stave off any new ones from touching the fragments or the machine they needed to protect, but as the number of arms increased, it became harder and failure started to seem like only a matter of time.
Emilia and the two simulacra were completely spared from Brume’s sudden outburst and had what felt like an intentional safe area around them. The White One’s spite was not directed at them.
The priestess found this somewhat problematic, as it gave her a chance to try and help the colored fragments, but betraying Brume’s goodwill seemed like it would be a fatal mistake. King and Leggy were obviously not going to do anything against anyone or anything that looked like Anastacia, so doing something would be on her shoulders.
She had come to the same conclusion about Brume’s identity as the fragments, as even she could feel the necromantic power pulling and tugging on her body. However, knowing how Anastacia, and by extension the fragments of her personality felt about necromancers and necromancy in general, she couldn’t help but to empathize with Brume.
While the priestess hesitated, the tide was starting to turn strongly against the colored fragments. Violet, Red and Yellow appeared to be the only ones willing or capable of defending the platform and the machine on it with magic, and when one of the skeletal arms finally caught Violet’s leg and flung her across the room, the remaining two had very little chance and were each grabbed into a crushing embrace by a pair of arms Brume had created.
The rest of the weaker fragments were picked up and held aloft with very little resistance. They wiggled fruitlessly as the grasps on them tightened while Brume kept demanding for answers.
Being the manifestation of Anastacia’s necromancer side, the necromantic prowess of The White One was well beyond what the others could manage, even if she was only the piece that had been within Green. The skeletal arms ushered forth were likely a part of Brume herself instead of something she simply controlled, making them just as unreachable by outside necromancy as Anastacia’s body usually was.
After dragging Violet back to the middle of the room, Brume dangled the seven in front of her and continued to desperately plead for answers.
“WHY DO YOU HATE ME?!” She screamed almost pitifully and fell on her knees.
“B… because necromancy is evil, we voted on it. Anastacia would be better off without you.” Stuttered Violet after seeing that no one else was about to answer the question. She had some hope for Red, but the furious fragment of Anastacia was too busy angrily trying to chew and stab herself free to listen to what was being said.
Brume stared at her own hands for a while. “I’m… evil? Why?” She asked, too confused to even cry anymore.
“Because necromancers are evil, we voted on that too.” The violet fragment continued her flimsily backed claims.
“But I only do what Anastacia wants… Is Anastacia evil?” Brume inquired, now visibly perplexed by the lack of any sort of reason for why she was being treated as a necessary evil at best.
“No, we recently received proof that we’re good.” Violet confirmed a bit too proudly for the position she was in and could feel the grasp around her tighten.
Trying to wrap her head around what was being said, Brume fell quiet for almost a minute before asking for a clarification. “So, necromancers being evil makes necromancy evil and that makes me evil but not Anastacia, but Anastacia being good doesn’t make me good? But I help Anastacia stop necromancers… who are evil because they’re necromancers… with necromancy, which is evil. So by helping Anastacia do good I’m evil, but Anastacia is still good because of that, and this is because necromancers, that I helped to stop, are evil?”
“Yes! If you’d ever meet a necromancer, you’d know that that’s just how it is. Now please go away so we can wrap up the meeting.” Violet said relievedly, thinking she had convinced her opponent of something.
“My mistake was… being me.” Brume realized and seemed to deflate a little as she slumped further down on the floor.
The violet necromancer nodded triumphantly. “Pretty much. Without you, Anastacia would have never been imprisoned, lived through the nightmares we staved off or ended up being the barely manageable wreck she is. Because you’re a part of her, she’s doomed to be harassed by other necromancers for the rest of her life, it seems. Because you’re a part of her, she was born evil and we have to do everything within our power to steer her away from it.” She rationalized Anastacia’s behavior and distaste towards her necromancer origins.
A sudden weighty thump interrupted their conversation. It almost felt like a small explosion that shook the floor and caused the lights of the room to flicker briefly. All eight pieces of Anastacia turned to the direction of the sound and were immediately filled with fear and dread, as what they saw was Emilia, holding King’s spear that she had struck against the floor, breaking the tile under it, and visibly so earth-shatteringly furious that even Red felt a tiny bit inadequate.
Though mostly devoid of Sylvia’s powers, the divine wrath of the priestess could be felt as a wave of inexplicable heat that washed over the room.
“ENOUGH!” She declared with a commanding tone she rarely used and struck the spear against the floor again. “I tried not to interfere with your meeting because I don’t know what would happen, but I can’t watch this quietly any longer.”
Emilia stood between Brume and the other seven Anastacias and swept the air with spear in their direction to address them. She cleared her throat and started her lecture. “I care deeply for Anna, and for you I guess, but for Sylvia’s sake, some of the stuff you’re managed to convince yourself of is beyond insufferably stupid.
“Necromancy in itself isn’t any eviler than being able to whistle or being able to grow a beard. Just because the people in Mournvalley chose to use it for bullshit doesn’t mean anything! You can throw fire out of your bare hands, but do you have any idea how many people are burned alive every year? So is fire magic now evil too? Winters frequently wipe out scores of people, but ice magic is just fine according to you. There are a ton of complete dickwad mages as well but somehow that’s not an issue for you!
“Just because someone was born necromancer doesn’t make them inherently evil, not you, not the three back on the surface, not the empress damn Coquelicot herself! I’ve had to explain this to Anna a hundred times to no avail, so maybe if all seven of you hear it at once, I’ll finally get through to you.
“And most of all, no, no, no and a million times no, Anastacia wouldn’t have been better off without her!” The angry priestess exclaimed and pointed at the confused Brume, who seemed just as surprised as the other Anastacias. “She wouldn’t have gotten to Valor, wouldn’t have met her friends, wouldn’t have done the good she has done or will do – Anna, as a person, would not exist! You seven assholes owe everything to her just as much as she owes everything to you!”
The colored fragments awkwardly shared quiet looks while each of them went through their far too complicated mental hoops to see if they could go back on something they had decided years ago.
While decisions were being made, Emilia turned to Brume and tried to help her back on her feet, but the white necromancer recoiled away from her and scurried across the mist on all fours.
“I’m not supposed to touch friends.” She explained warily. “But it was very nice of you to say all that.”
Not wishing to agitate Brume any more than needed Emilia stood back. “Don’t mention it. Anna can be very, very, very dense at times, but both Gil and I have been saved by you more times than I can count.”
Still being held tightly in the skeletal grasps of Brume, the colored fragments were ready to begin debating the final matter of their first ever in person meeting
As per usual, Violet began by voicing her own opinion. “I can’t believe we’re voting on this nonsense again. Last time, it was four against one for condemning all necromancy ever as a crime against nature, I assume everyone will vote the same way as before, with Red being stubborn as always. Green wasn’t yet a thing when we voted and seems to be unconscious because someone destroyed her knee and ribs, so we’ll just skip her. Yellow didn’t exist back then and probably doesn’t care, so she won’t vote either.” She listed off her assumptions, obviously trying to get the decision done and over with before anyone got convinced of anything.
“Actually…” Indigo suddenly said. “I’d like to vote against condemning necromancy this time. Seeing her makes me kind of feel bad for her and what Emilia said makes a lot of sense… She has done a lot of good with us.”
When Blue’s turn came, she remained quiet, but refused to raise her hand in support of Violet’s obstinate views.
Orange didn’t raise her hand either. “I think the priestess’ claims have a lot of sense in them. I would have zero simulacra without necromancy, but instead I have several, and a bunch of goblins as well as plenty of nice things in my room. This is all a stark improvement over the cell. Not to mention, necromancy would go a long way making sure what is mine stays mine. I shall change my vote too, but I decided to do it first, and did it better than the others.” She said in her usual obnoxious manner.
Red grinned menacingly. By the sounds of things, she had been the only one to vote against Violet the last time, no doubt because necromancy made her job infinitely easier. It was hard to tell if she was happy that the vote had gone her way this time, or if the important part was that Violet lost.
“Face it, you purple nerd, Anastacia has grown past needing you. She’s not going to lose it anymore even if you stop micromanaging us, so stand down and let things run their natural course for once.” She snickered derisively.
Violet was visibly upset about the turn of events and kept trying to look for allies frantically. “Yellow, you agree with me, right?!”
The yellow necromancer was surprised to get mentioned. She wiggled slightly in her skeletal bindings and turned towards Violet. “I’ve ran the numbers on this vote, and honestly, it doesn’t matter to me how it goes.” She opened her mouth for the first time after the machine had split Anastacia into seven pieces.
Defeated by even the last member of the group not siding with her, Violet sighed deeply and lost what fight she had left in here. “Fine… It is hereby decided that necromancy on its own is not evil, but neutral. Mournvalley is still the worst though.”
Having heard that, Brume stepped forth hesitantly. “Does that mean I’m not evil?” She asked.
“It does, but we’re only representations of her personality, so it’ll take a bit for her to organically come to the decision on her own after we’ve made the ruling. Maybe she’ll have a life changing realization after seeing her own reflection on the surface of a lake, maybe it’ll come to her in a dream, but it’ll come nonetheless.” Explained Violet tiredly.
With a gentle smile on her face, Brume dissolved back into the mist on the floor and disappeared along with it over the next few moments. Her conjurations quickly fell apart and released their captives unharmed – aside from Green, who fell limply on the floor and may have hit her head against the stone surface a bit harder than necessary, adding to the damage she had already pointlessly received.
Violet and Emilia exchanged bitter looks before the former quietly returned to her seat to pout over her loss in such a large matter. While the violet fragment of Anastacia accepted her defeat, Emilia could tell that she was going to be about one seventh less popular among the council for a good while.
Red nodded subtly at the priestess, pushing the limits of her politeness and moved on to help King to move Green to her seat in the machine.
Indigo, Blue and Orange approached Emilia with varyingly apologetic expressions. After pushing each other for a bit to urge someone to speak up, Indigo was chosen for the job.
“We feel a bit bad that you had to see that, but you need to understand that for years we needed necromancers to be the be-all and end-all villain of sorts, just to keep Anastacia focused on something and make it through the day.” She explained and had a hard time looking at the still agitated priestess in the eyes. “You made us understand that that’s no longer the case; Anastacia has new things she needs our help with and people looking out for her. She has been stuck in her old mentality for too long.”
Emilia glared down at the trio and huffed through her nose. “No young person I am legally responsible for is going to hate a major part of themselves if I have a say in the matter. I’ll let you off for now, but if this doesn’t look like its on its way out, I’ll drag Anna back here, shove her into that machine again just so I can give you seven an earful or two.”
“Yes ma’am!” The three responded in unison and started to make their way to their seats, but before she got too far, Indigo was stopped by Emilia and pulled closer.
The priestess covertly nodded at Yellow, who had returned to the table immediately without so much as glancing at her. “What’s her deal?” She whispered, confused by the mix of indifference and surprising competence.
“Yellow?” Indigo confirmed, looking surprised that Emilia cared about the quiet fragment. “Yellow is responsible for acquiring, grading, researching and securing future batches of coffee. That’s all she does and all she’s expected to care about, she only votes on things she thinks might affect the amount of coffee Anastacia can get.”
“There’s an entire fragment for… coffee?” Sighed the priestess.
Indigo nodded. “She outranks everyone but Violet.”