The next two days are occupied with walking, buying supplies, Agatha
insisting Leslie eats more, and mostly being outside after Agatha noticed how
jittery Leslie looked staying in one room for more than a couple hours.
She'd also insisted on Leslie buying more clothes, and at least
breaking in the sturdy shoes they’d gotten her, insisting that she had a way to
carry it all.
"And soon, you'll have a way yourself," she added in that
horribly ineffable way Leslie was quickly realizing that Agatha did when she
was trying to be either subtle or mysterious.
Leslie had always assumed that the sound of people, the sound
of others moving and all of them separate and far removed from each other would
stress her out to no end. She's finding that the silence she's always been used
to is much more capable of making dread pool in her gut, and anxiety stir it up
than the background noise she's learned to tune out.
"That actually on what I'm telling you, or the flask?"
Leslie looks up from her notepad. "Uhh, both. I'm still trying to
find out the exact point it turns things explosive." She takes a look at
her writing, at times, recorded experiments, and at legal ownership laws, ranks
needed to own higher levels of magic items. The words are starting to bleed
together, and it's only being sped up by the fact that her hand is cramping,
and that she'd written it all on the same page.
She manages to accidentally read two sentences at once and registering
the words "three months need to pass before it explodes" is
what convinces her that maybe a break is needed.
The exact correlation between seeker rank and the level of items
they're allowed to potentially own is still a little foggy to her, but Agatha
had also assured her that she'd have something check on her own for reference
soon.
Leslie pauses to finally take the first bite of her cinnamon bun.
Agatha takes her putting down her pencil as a sign to take a break from
talking, and sips at her coffee.
All the talk about legal rules and the notes across her paper raises a
concern. The question had been rattling around her brain for the past few days,
and bringing it up was, so far, a feat that kept escaping her.
"There's... there's still supposed to be a registration process,
isn't there?" Leslie asks. "Even for apprenticing. What about
that?"
"You're right about that." Agatha gestures to her. "But
you were also right about a lot more being waved away as either irrelevant, or
to be added or handled later when you register an apprentice."
Agatha levels an odd, almost pointed look at her, and Leslie stays
silent, nodding.
"I've already handled most of it, actually."M an old pro at
the process by now, anyways."
"At... registering apprentices?"
Agatha, for a moment, actually looks somewhat surprised, like she
hadn't realized what she's been saying. "Mmm. Yeah, you can say that.
You're shaping up to be the only one that's ever stayed long-term,
though."
Leslie feels a light layer of alarm coat her thoughts.
It must show on her face, because Agatha reacts to it, by looking more
alarmed herself. "Oi, oi, nothing happened to them! God, I didn't
realize how fucking ominous that sounded 'til it was outta my mouth.
It's just," She pauses, and nods, and Leslie doesn't know if it's at her,
or at herself. "As I know you know, there's just a real nifty
couple 'o side things about registering as an apprentice instead of takin' the
normal process. It assumes, automatically, that the apprentice is consenting to
the whole deal, and that the mentoring seeker is now going to watch after them.
Just with that, it sidesteps a lot of legal landmines where guardianship
is concerned.
"There's a lotta looseness to it. Again, all responsibility is
given to the mentoring seeker, and there isn't much in the way of checking up
on how it's going. I remind you, that seekers do normally return to bases
regularly, depending on how often they find important items that're either
wanted or outta their league, or whatever. But if the apprentice stops
showing, and isn't outright stated to be dead or anything, people'll looks the
other way, or forget about 'em entirely-"
Leslie assumes that her face is now showing more alarm, because
Agatha, again, reacts to it.
She cuts her words off halfway, bangs her elbows against the table,
scowls at nothing in particular hard enough to produce fifty percent more
wrinkles on her face, and massages her temples.
"Oh my god, why did I put it like that- listen. The
process involved for apprentices requires almost no legal documents or anything.
Name, a physical description, a picture, some other information that can be got
by just looking at them or asking. They get new identification
from the deal, one that works near anywhere as long as the apprenticeship isn't
outright terminated, and legally, any old guardian of the kid can do near shit
about it unless they have a lot of resources and drive on their hands, which
they usually don't, the sons of-"
Agatha stops herself again. Swipes at her nose once. "And. Shit.
Yeah."
Leslie bites her lip, and at her response.
On one hand, Agatha looks agitated, like she hasn't seen her
yet. She's still not sure where agitation brings Agatha, and it's not something
she'd be willing to try and prod to find out.
... On the other, Agatha also seems to be aware of this, and if her
looking away and visibly trying to calm herself is any indication, she hadn't
meant the emotion to blow up like that either.
There's also the fact that Leslie recognizes turning away as a
conscious effort to not direct it at her, and it's something she hasn't
seen in three years.
It's what makes her feel secure enough to speak. "No one
mentioned kids."
Agatha briefly looks like she'd been smacked in the nose, before she
schools her expression back to something less stricken. Her arms cross, and her
sigh seems to deflate her. "I still feel like you're havin' the wrong
idea."
Leslie feels her insides twist. "No, no! I know that, um, all
of that. That's why I needed to -- to find someone to apprentice under.
It... it just jumps over a lot of legal stuff and I needed that."
"You're the first one who ever wanted to actually apprentice.
You know, to actually learn to be a seeker, and not just for another reason.
But, then again, it was always me offering it as a way out, I suppose,"
Her mind jumps to the notes still in her bag; the ones she still
looked at every night in her folder and crinkled plastic bag. Guilt coils in
her gut. But then she looks at the notes in front of her, and squashes it down.
"... That's not it, is it."
"What." Leslie realizes that Agatha is raising a brow her
way. "For what? What's not what," The last few seconds of
conversation is frantically backtracked in her head. "Wait, wait, I do! I
want to, I-"
"Kid. Leslie. It's alright if you just," She gestures, not
in a way like she's trying to signify anything, but like she's trying to stall
for time to find the words she wants. "... needed it as a way out. I got
you."
"No, no, wait, I do," Leslie pushes her
current notes towards Agatha. "I want to learn. I do want to be a
seeker. I just..."
"Have another reason, too?"
"That's not just it, I. I do need to get out of here, but I
also... I want to -- to go around and travel too, and see things. And. And I
need to, um-" She stops herself again, and bites her lip.
She gauges what she felt at holding up the Napalm Flask up in the
light as she gave it a name against what she felt as she clutched at, hid and
found the notes and clues in her bag every time she found more, over the course
of three years.
One's lighter, the other's heavier, both melt at her insides and make
her heart pump faster if she thinks about it for too long. Both have an
underlying, permeating sense of 'she'd be so proud of me'.
"I... I need to travel. I need to find someo-- something,
and..." Leslie sits straighter and looks Agatha, who's still sitting,
patiently waiting for her to put her whirlwind of thoughts into words in the
eye. "Can't I do both?"
Agatha holds her gaze, and Leslie feels absolutely certain that
the old timer didn't miss the slip up. A moment later, Agatha's face breaks out
into a smile -- no, a grin, and she laughs. "Leslie, dear,"
She reaches across the table, pats Leslie's hand atop her notes. "That's
what seekers do. It's what we do. We seek and we find. Now,"
A pause. She nods at Leslie and Leslie feels the hand on hers tighten
a second before it's taken back.
"You know the going ain't always going to be like this."
Leslie nods.
"You know that it might get rougher at points."
Leslie nods.
"You accept that?"
"It can't get any rougher than what I had."
"Then I'll drag you around and impart all the useless wisdom this
old gal has to spare for as long as you need me to. I can promise you that,
sugarplum."
A few minutes later, after Leslie has gone back to digging into her
cinnamon bun and Agatha has been not very discreetly running an eye over her
notes, she asks, as casually as she can. "Have you ever terminated any of
your apprenticeships?"
"Not a single one."
"Which number am I?"
Agatha smiles. Fondly. "Sixteenth. You're not the youngest, or
the oldest. And as long as there's young 'uns who need a better place to be,
and my breath and mind still about me, you'll not be the last."
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