This entry was originally written on April 24nd, 2022. See end of blog for author's notes.

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DISTRICT SOREIA

It’s nearly evening when Magus finally arrives at Klofane Square, and the streets are bustling with more traffic than usual. Shopkeeps and merchants are preparing their stalls around the huge fountain for the oncoming night market shift. Magus, soon enough, gets caught in the endless movement of Trigonians who need to get to wherever they need to be. The investigator turns their head this way and that with squinted eyes, for they find it hard to locate the agreed meeting place through all this crowd.

Meanwhile, a certain skater, whose pepper-mustard hair was held in a signature updo, takes an amused sip from their drink at the funny sight of their friend getting lost in the flow of the night buzz.

Sometimes, Agnis learned, there was no mistaking the cyan bolero hat over the waist-length, ivory hair, even in a sea of people. They've likened their friend's hair to that of a dove's pristine feathers, yet reckons that it was about as unkempt as a group of jagged stones jutting out from where they grew. There was also this specific hunched posture that Magus always held, even as they were frantically whipping their head with hands in their coat pockets— that, too, stands out no matter how far a radii away.

A whistle and clap cuts through the ambiance and Magus' sharp, amethyst gaze snap to the sight of a waving hand belonging to a skater seated at an outdoor table for two. Magus immediately arrives within three, lengthy strides.

"Took you long enough," Agnis greets, sipping on their straw.

"Sorry I missed your transmit. Did you get our usual?" As Magus takes a seat with an apologetic smile, a waitress cuts in with a steaming mug of Sagadan coffee on the table.

Agnis thanks the waitress with a nod before nudging it towards their partner.

"Maaaaan, you would not believe the ain of reports Efraine made me write earlier," Magus takes a well-deserved sip, "Exploring the magic of longhand writing like it's a lost art..."

Agnis jerks their head back in amusement. "Oh, but if you could just use the communications array in your office to fill him in on the gossip, would make your job muuuuuch easier."

"Reports-" Magus interjects, "-If I wanted to gossip, I would've just transmitted to you instead. In any case, the Councilor's gotta keep his bookcase filled somehow," The shifter smacks their lips, savoring the taste of imported Sagadan dark roast.

They fold an arm and relax into their seat, holding the mug by its rim. "Got a meeting with the Councilor tomorrow about the cases at District Renatus again. No new leads aside from the linking evidence we already have with the autopsies- unless you have something new for me?"

It should be easier to leave Records and Research to do all the work, but their dear friend Agnis has become their go-to person for an entirely different kind of intel. Any sort of word on the street that Records and Research could not get a hold of, Agnis has likely heard of it and is ever happy to be the provider. Sometimes they were rumors. Other times, they were very valuable first-hand accounts that—in Magus' opinion—those incompetent Officers from The Authority would miss in their otherwise impertinent way of conducting interrogations. People from the Southend had much more tact, Magus thinks. And Agnis Likha, a human whom they happen to share a flat with about a few block radii away, grew up from the Southend. Although today, Magus was shit out of luck.

"Streets have been real quiet ever since... maybe people are too afraid to talk lip thinking they'll be next." The skater idly rolls the bronze straw between their fingers with a dejected look, "I've got nothing, sorry."

"Hey, no worries," Magus pats the back of Agnis' hand, "I'm not keen on waiting for a 7th case to happen until I hear something new, anyway. We keep moving regardless." 

The investigator would be lying if they said they weren't a little bit disappointed, but it was through no fault of their partner. Magus knows that everyone at Records is on salary as well, so they drown any hope of drawing some overtime from them. They'll just have to look over the transparencies and maps that they requested back in their office again tomorrow.

"So, anything new happen today?" Magus attempts to shift the topic to something lighter. And at that question, the skater's shoulders suddenly square— Ah, there it is, the question they have been anticipating since earlier noon! Their leg begins to bounce underneath the table, eager to spill the beans.

“Okay, get this." Agnis splays their hands. "I scored a nine-to-five at the local rink down at 'Ppono!"

Magus lowers their mug.

The skater nods. “Uh-huh. And I start on the morrow!" But then, their demeanor quickly shifts, "Ah, but I guess this means I’m moving out, I’ll be packing the moment we get back...” That bit was declared a little too portentously. Even moreso as Agnis lays it on thicker with a pout.

The Investigator tries to hide their grin behind their steaming mug. They know the sound of Agnis teasing when they hear it. And for some reason, they always find themself playing along- not that they mind, for how could they even say no to that face. Magus places their Sagadan back on the table.

 “And then what? You'd still have to come back every third of the week to do the dishes, anyway." Magus rests their elbows on the table, their chin on tented hands. "Or else, stars forbid, I'll have someone else make my favourite vegetable quiche!"

The loud gasp from Agnis almost sounded like a huge inhale. Luckily, Fektans do not falter that easily. The rollerskater folds their arms.

"Then just get your assistant to do it- you never know, maybe Nilvi makes a pretty mean quiche!"

"Okay, then shall I make her wash my underwear too?"

The two of them share a lengthy stare— before bursting into laughter. Agnis couldn't help but slap their thigh repeatedly in between wheezes, and while Magus the table in an attempt to curb the embarrassment. Their beverages gyrate slightly from their place with each thunk.

"I'm gonna pretend you did not just say that," Agnis wipes a tear as they reach for their drink, "Ahh, where would you be without me?"

Magus' cackles dies down into smaller giggles as they try to compose themself in public.

"Not anywhere I wouldn't be, that's for sure."

[1] "'Ppono" is Agnis' shortform of saying "DIstrict Appono". District Appono is one of the four districts within the Citadel of Trigonon.