-Celeste-

I see Holly, a girl I know from City School. Violet seems to recognize her a little, though she still seems a little confused.

"Hey. You guys go to City School, right?" She turns to Violet. "I know I've seen you in the halls, and... Celeste? I think we have the same homeroom."

"I recognize you! Your hair is pretty hard to miss. I'm Violet, by the way.  You are...?" Violet trails off.

"Holly," I answer for her, still eating my ice cream.

"Yeah, Holly. I'm a sophmore," she replies.

Violet smiles and says, "I am too, like Celeste. Though I'm younger than her because my birthday's in like, early May, but still."

I finish my ice cream and say, "So, what've you been up to lately?"

_Ky_

I rest my chin against my hands as I stare out into the river, my elbows resting on the cold front counter. Business isn't good today for the cafe, so my coworker Isabel took off early. Now I'm left here, wondering what to do.

Perhaps I could write a short poem. I always write them in my free time, under an anonymous name, of course, because my parents would not be pleased to know about me being a poet. But then again, I'm basically on my own now, so it doesn't really matter. It's just that an anonymous name feels safer.

I take out my notepad and take out a pen as I let the words flow out of me, in the form of a poem. A simple, short poem. Satisfied, I gently rip it out of the notepad, wondering if I should post it at the bookstore like I usually do when no one's around.

So after my shift is over, I put on a coat and walk casually to the bookstore. It seems that currently, everyone's busy, looking at anyone else but me. After all, there are plenty of other customers in the bookstore, which will help me blend in perfectly. I discreetly leave the poem taped to one of the bookshelves. I smile a little as I leave just as silently as I came. It's a bit of a tradition for the bookstore members to find my poems every once in a while, but no one has guessed me yet, an ordinary cafe worker.

The poem:

"The river gently courses

Through the city of stars, where

Thousands know of nature's forces

But none seem to truly care."

~Dorrie~

During lunch, for the first time this year, someone comes over to sit with me. I don't really have friends; last year I had a friend named Millicent but she moved out of the City. 
"Hi," I say.
"Hi," the person says back. "Is your teacher Mr. Erlenmeyer?" 
"Yeah," I say. "Why?"
"I just think it's kind of weird that he's gone," says the person.
"Me too," I say. "I went in his office and he had this bulletin board with the name Casey Rosenberg on it, and then the words 'I was taken by'. It was a mess in there."
"Maybe Mr. E was kidnapped?" says the person. 
"That sounds right," I say. "What's your name?" 
"Aventurine," says the person.
"I'm Dorrie," I say. "It's nice to meet you.
"Do you want to come over to my mom's bookstore after school?" she asks.
"Sure," I say. "Where is it?"
"Inland near the river," says Aventurine. "Riverside Books is the name." 
I think that's where our upstairs neighbor Morrigan works. Maybe. I don't know. "I live near there. My parents will be okay with it."

--Morrigan--

It's almost closing time. A regular patron, who I think is named Ky, comes and goes without buying anything, and there are a handful of students coming through to get books about whatever they're studying, but other than that, nobody comes in until it's almost 5, which is when we lock up for the night. I've made progress on my novel, Noelle is settling in, and Cassidy is pleased with the sales we've made last weekend. Aventurine comes around 3:15 every day to do her homework; today she brought a friend--Dorrie, my downstairs neighbor. 
"Hi, Morrigan," she says.
"Hi," I say. 
"I'm hanging out with Aventurine," says Dorrie. 
"Great," says Cassidy. "No gum and no loud noises."
"Agreed," says Dorrie. They go into the kids' section and start talking quietly. 

I'm typing my novel and standing at the counter. The clock says 4:48 when the door chimes crazily. I look up. There's a man outside, trying to pull open the door very frantically. 
"It's a push door," Cassidy yells. "Can we assist you?" The man pulls the door open. 
"I need to hide!" he yells. 
"From the authorities?" Noelle asks. No, he is not hiding from the authorities.
"No, from a kidnapper," says the man. I don't say that if I didn't know what he was saying because of my star, I would think he was hiding from the authorities. 
"In here," says August, motioning to the bathroom. She comes into the bathroom with the man. I can see her opening the locked bathroom cabinet, removing the toilet paper, shoving him into it, closing the cabinet, and locking the bathroom door. She puts the lock in her box of locks that don't have any purpose. She maintains that, even though the City is fairly safe, we should be careful just because.
I check on Dorrie and Aventurine. Both of them are still in the kids' section, looking shocked. 
"What?" I ask. That man is their science teacher (what the heck is he doing here?)
"Not much," says Aventurine. "That's our science teacher." 
"And," says Dorrie, "he's been missing since yesterday." 

~Dorrie~

I'm terrified of Casey Rosenberg or whoever Mr. E is running from. 
"Should we leave?" I ask.
"Um..." August, Aventurine's mom, looks at the door. "Maybe. I think so, actually. Don't respond to people." 
"Right," I say. 
"My house is behind the shop," says Aventurine, "so I'll see you tomorrow." 
"Bye," I say, then walk out the door. It's rainy. I tug the rain cover onto my school backpack and walk down the street to the train station. I disappear down the escalator and take a train to our street; even though it's only one station away I don't want to walk in the rain. Rain makes me sad, and so does my house for a matter of fact. Oh well. 

I go inside and put away my backpack and food. 
"How was school?" asks my mom.
"Good," I say. "I went to Morrigan's workplace after with the owner's kid." I don't tell her about Mr. E. 
"How was science?" my mom presses. "Learn anything?"
"Life science was good," I say.
"How about physical science?" she asks.
"Didn't happen," I say dully.
"Did you skip?" she asks, giving me the eagle eye she reserves for unidentified rocks.
"No," I say. "The teacher did."
"What?" my dad says. He is peeling celery from Orin's garden at the kitchen counter. 
"Mr. Erlenmeyer has been gone for two days." 
"This is an outrage," says my mom, although she doesn't look like it. "I'm calling the school." 
"All right," I say, thankful I've escaped a bad argument. 

-------

--Morrigan--

I'm a bit scared of the science teacher's pursuer. I help August, Cassidy, and Noelle close up, then walk home in the rain. It reminds me of when I was little. We would walk around, my parents holding a gigantic family umbrella over us, and we'd wander around the City. 
I feed Greta some lettuce and then make my own dinner. Below me I can hear the Delaneys making dinner and going to bed. I can recognize it: After the clanking sounds of dinnertime, there's either conversation or music with lots of singing and guitar coming from Dorrie's room mixed with sounds of Orin tending to his plants mixed with the adults doing different things each night. Then, at around nine, Dorrie's music disappears, and at about 9:30, Orin stops tending the plants. Slowly, the other chatter ceases, and then at about 11:30, if I'm awake to hear it, there is silence. 
The top apartment comes with a roof stairway, which is why I bought it. I go up it and open the hatch door, then climb out in the rain. The City at night is amazing. You can see the dark, reflective ribbon where the river is, and the lights of all the buildings, and in the distance the Lighthouse and a blank expanse of nothing. 
People say the City is an ideal place. I agree.
Except then why would the science teacher have been running away from someone?

~Dorrie~

The next day, at school, I go to the science building out of habit again, and there's another announcement. 
"Those in Mr. Emil Erlenmeyer's physical sciences class will have a sub today. They should go to class and be especially helpful to their new teacher, Mr. Grebnesor. Mr. Grebnesor may be staying permanently." 
Well, well, well. I go up the escalator and find the classroom, then go inside. Mr. Grebnesor (how do you pronounce that, I wonder) is at Mr. E's desk, wearing a shirt and a tie for some reason, and drinking from a coffee mug.
"Hello, class," says Mr. Grebnesor. "Mr. Erlenmeyer didn't leave anything behind, so I'm just going to show you some science experiments." I know he's about to do the vinegar and baking soda experiment because of all this stuff on his desk, but it's more spectacular than I'd think, and suddenly I get this feeling in my head that science is cool. I don't know where it came from, but now I start thinking science is cool science is cool science is cool. I'm eating my lunch when I choke on a pickle and realize that that thought must have been from somewhere other than my brain. I mean, I don't always think that science is cool. Sometimes it is. It might be interesting to find out where the Stars come from. Or why people talk to some strangers but not others. But it's not always the most interesting thing.I shake my head of the notion and continue my lunch.

Later, at home, I do all my homework and then play a game with Orin while our parents make dinner. He likes word games, and we invented one using Scrabble tiles, where both players spell out a long word and then try to rearrange it; the person with the longest word, once everything has been made into different words, wins.  After Orin picks asparagus, which I can only dissect into gas us a par but which he can make into sugars apa (not a word, but whatever), I say, "Grebnesor."
"What?" Orin asks.
"Grebnesor," I say. "That's the science sub's name." 
"Okay," says Orin, who starts laying out the tiles. He can only get enrobers GB, but I keep moving around the tiles until I suddenly find Rosenberg.
Rosenberg.
The last name on Mr. E's bulletin board. 
"You win," says Orin, but I barely hear him. I move the tiles again and discover that Grebnesor isn't just an anagram of Rosenberg, but each is the other spelled backwards. 
Which leads me to wonder if Grebnesor is not actually named Grebnesor, but Rosenberg. Because that's logical. Isn't it?

My explanation for abandoning my own thread is thinking that everyone else had abandoned it, and once I tried to rescue an RP and was the only person doing it and it wasn't very fun...but now I'm back. 

---------

--Morrigan--

After yesterday with the Great Runaway Science Teacher, I decide to bring the Delaneys some muffins. After the kids' school so I can talk to Dorrie. 
Unfortunately, I have to go to the bookstore early--August's business plan involves two employees every weekday for the "before-work rush", two during the "morning lull", and three starting at noon. Three days a week I work starting at noon. This is not one of them. 
I head to the bookshop and am staffing it. Cassidy comes to me and says, 
"That teacher Mr. Ernestmeier or whatever booked a hotel suite nearby. He told me he didn't want to go to his house."
"Interesting," I say, and get out my typewriter. 

At 2, my shift ends, and I leave the bookshop, go home, and eat lunch and feed Greta. Then I set about making muffins and then put them in a nice basket. At 3:15 I go downstairs. Mr. Delaney is in the living room writing something, and I can hear gardening noises from the balcony and music from Dorrie's room. 
"Hello, Morrigan," he says. "Thank you for the muffins." 
"You're welcome," I say. "Is it okay if I speak to the kids?" It is.
"Absolutely," he says. "Dorrie is in her room, aspiring to be a singer, and Orin is tending his plants." 
"Excellent," I say, and go through the hallway to the room with the loudest music. I knock on the door. 
"Who?" asks Dorrie over the music.
"Morrigan," I say.
"Come in," says Dorrie. She turns off the music and I sit in her desk chair, because she is sitting on her bed. 
"I'm here to talk about the science teacher," I say. "Cassidy, my colleague, told me he didn't want to go to his house." 
"Interesting," says Dorrie. "There was a sub whose name was apparently Mr. Grebnesor, but I found out it spells Rosenberg backwards, and the name Casey Rosenberg was on his office bulletin board, with small letters saying 'I was taken by'."
"So," I say, thinking out loud, "he was kidnapped by Casey Rosenberg, who somehow lost their grip on him and then started subbing at his school..."
"Sounds right," says Dorrie. 

_Ky_

Whew, I think. Today was a long day. Quite a few customers came to the cafe today, and I was more than relieved when my coworker came to take the next shift.

I decide to take a break by walking along the Winding River, brainstorming ideas for poetry. I love writing poetry, even though I know it won't get me anywhere...or so everyone around me says. 

I make my way over to the riverside. Perhaps I should practice my water magic. I haven't done that in a while. So I wave my hand over the river, and the river splashes some water into the air. Perfect, I think. I cup my hands, and the splash of water takes the form of a sphere. Slowly, I form it into the shape of a deer, carefully shaping the antlers. It's rather difficult to form water because it's liquid, but I mastered it with time. Now, I can hold the water as any form I want for as long as I want.

I see a nearby duck waddle over to the riverbed, tilting its head quizzically at the water deer. I laugh a little, and drop the form, causing the river to splash and the duck to swim off a little while before coming back, curious to see where the deer went.

The sun is starting to set, so I make my way home, relaxed and happy. As I approach my door, I notice a letter left in my mailbox. Curious, I take it out.

I go into my house and onto my couch before opening it carefully and revealing the letter inside. The letter reads: To those that harness creativity, wandering around, looking for adventure, seeking magic...In the city where mysteries float around ordinarily...In particular, one mystery: the Zeithran Star. What happened to the star that once came to the City once a year? What happened to the magic that came with it? Is there anyone who dares to ask what others have ignored?...Signed, the Seeker.

I stare at the letter in confusion. What kind of message was that? Who was the Seeker? And the Zeithran Star? I pause for a moment. I remember the Zeithran Star's appearance in the city back when I was a child. Now that I think about it, I haven't seen its appearance in...what, five years? But I've never questioned it. And I'm not sure why.

~Dorrie~

Morrigan and I talk for almost an hour. At the end she says, 
"I should be going home, I have to be awake early tomorrow. Tell me about anything you see tomorrow. Put a note under my door or in my mailbox if I'm not there." 
"Thanks," I say.
"You're welcome," she says, and then leaves.
My mom is home at 6:00, which means I listen to music while I do my homework, then keep listening to music until I hear the creak of the apartment door. 
"Supper!" calls my dad. I go into the kitchen. Supper is indeed ready. I sit down and start eating.
"How was your day, Dorrie?" my mom asks.
"Good," I said. "Except for science class. They got a sub, but I started, like, thinking that science is cool during then, and suddenly I shook it off, and it was weird because the thought wasn't mine." 
"Dorothy Delaney," says Mom. She's holding in her rage, which is something she does very well, keeping it from boiling over and holding it at a furious simmer. "Why is it not your thought that science is cool?"
"Um," I say, "it's hard for me. Just like spelling is hard for you." This is true.
"I do not dislike spelling. It isn't bad just because I don't like it."
"But I dislike science," I said, "and that's me."
"You shouldn't," says my mom. 
"Elenia," says my dad, "there is no should or shouldn't unless Dorrie is actively harming herself." That's right. Dad and Orin are the peacekeepers in our family. Mom and I are the peacebreakers.
"All right," says my mom, grumpily but in a way that seems to say This is not the end of this.

Moon Wolf, what do you think about shipping Ky and Morrigan? I know originally I said that Morrigan wouldn't be shipped but I think that they'd get along well.

---

--Morrigan--

The next day, I arrive at the bookstore early enough for the "before-work rush". Some people come in and buy academic books (Negative Numbers for Beginners, The Complete Book of Science, How to Write a Thesis) and then one of the regular patrons, Ky (?), comes in. 
"Do you have any books about local history?" he asks, coming straight to the front desk. "Specifically the history of stars?"
"Yes," I say. "Over there." I indicate with my typewriter-eraser pencil. Ky goes over to the books, and looks through them. He picks out two of them and brings them over.
"I'd like to buy these," he says.
I ring them up at the cash register and then he says,
"Have you ever heard of the Zeithran Star?"
I think through my memories. I've only ever once heard those words before, in an old song. I was seventeen and I'd snuck into a night restaurant to hear a band play. I wish you were here, and the Zeithran Star had followed you, and everything was well. That's what the singer had said.
"Once in a song," I say. "But no more."

Sure! I also think they'd get along well! 

_Ky_

I head to the bookstore to check out any information about the Zeithran Star, or whatever. I think back to when I was a child, glimpsing that beautiful star...it was so long ago and blurry that I'm half-convinced it's a dream. But who knows? It's not like I have much else to do other than my cafe work.

I go up to the front desk and ask, "Do you know any books about local history? Specifically the history of stars?" 

"Yes," the receptionist says. The tag on her shirt reads Morrigan. "Over there." She gestures to a shelf nearby.

I walk over to the shelf and scan it for any books of...shall I say, interest. I find one of them that reads, Stars of the City: Facts and Fantasy. It might be useful, so I take it out of the shelf. I spot another interesting title that reads, Great Mysteries: Stars. I take that one as well before going up to the front desk to buy them.

"I'd like to buy these," I say. She rings them up at the cash register. After a moment, I say a little hesitantly, "Have you ever heard of the Zeithran Star?"

She pauses for a moment, thinking. Then she says, "Once in a song. But no more."

That's not never, I think. "Okay. If you don't mind, could you tell me the song lyrics?"