Family Outing

Three young women make their way through one of the ocean liners that make up the city amidst the waves. Shops line the portion of the deck they're in, people buying everything from groceries to parts for modifying whatever form of personal watercraft they used to navigate the waters. It was unclear how many of the ship's original recreations had been kept, as many of the pools seemed to have been converted into aquaponic farms while a casino retained its original purpose. The people themselves keep a somewhat loose style of dress. There was no lack of dark suits and other formalwear, but by and large, bright colors, openness, and a lack of sleeves permeated the wardrobe.

The trio's heads stay on a swivel, taking in as much as they can as they pass by. Their gawking doesn't go unnoticed, and more than a few people return their curious gazes with their own. The fair skin, crimson eyes, and white locks they share grant them the appearance of sisters despite the truth being a tad bit more complicated. Though as far as the triplets were concerned, they were sisters faithfully carrying out orders from their mother. However, a group of sisters wasn't anything too special. Not enough to earn as many stares as they were, at least. What so clearly set them apart was their strange choice of clothing. It wasn't merely out of fashion in the current decade — their outfits seemed to belong to another century. Even assuming that they were eccentric students from New Babylon or the rarely-seen Magi presiding over Alcatraz, it was a strange sight all the same.

???: "We should leave before someone questions our presence. There's nothing here of use anyway."

???: "No. We were told to familiarize ourselves, and we'll do exactly that. Besides, where would we go?"

???: "Anywhere else. The less we're seen, the better."

???: "Trying to hide will only make us look more suspicious! We've done nothing wrong, so we have nothing to fear."

???: "Oh! Why don't we get some new clothes? We'll blend in way better than we are with these old things."

???: "And how are we supposed to pay for clothes?"

???: "I never said we'd be paying for them."

???: "Hush, you two! If we're caught stealing, we'll have more to worry about than looking suspicious!"

The "oldest" of the three pulls her sisters aside into one of the facilities aboard the ship as more and more people stop to stare at them. A theatre now being used as a classroom greets them. An old man with a few vanishing wisps of gray hair squints at them through his thick glasses before telling them to take their seats and continuing his lecture. They hurriedly make their way to the back row, where they begin shouting at each other as quietly as possible.

Meanwhile, far below them in the domed prison, their so-called mother stalks the shadows in search of an answer to her dilemma. She was no expert in the clandestine, nor was she overly concerned with her presence being known. Even if the Magi that had entombed themselves here could recognize what she was, they had little chance of knowing who. Let alone why she was here. No, it wasn't a concern at all — it was an inconvenience. The slight bit of caution was worth the trouble if it meant avoiding some haughty pests disturbing her peace.

Her dark, glassy eyes scan over the grandiose yet coldly efficient architecture bathed in artificial light. Everything is orderly. Naturally, those who would call such a place home share this quality. From the way they dress to the way they act, it all seems like an elaborate show. A ritual that defies the world above and sends a clear message: This is their realm, and they will be respected.

It reminds her of how her form aches and burns as the world rejects it. Indeed, there must have been some truth in their conceited words. They had been chosen over her, after all. Yet, at the same time, the world outside the dome was evidence that the favor they held was not absolute. They could not stop the ocean from swallowing them. They would not stop her. They could buzz around and build as many monuments to their majesty as they pleased, but it could all be undone in time.

Something peculiar catches her eyes, and some of the dullness is lost as she feels surprised that something has intrigued her. A feeble-looking boy with long, brown hair enters her field of view. On the surface, there doesn't seem to be anything of note about him. Especially when she considered a precious few things to be noteworthy. It was not something she could see, but something she felt gazing upon the boy. A familiar emptiness. His red eyes focus on her form, cold and full of contempt. They stare each other down for a moment. Then, something shifts in how he carries himself, and she recognizes that he intends to make himself an inconvenience. It was only natural that they would have someone enforce their unspoken law.

He aggresses with unnatural speed, not unlike that of her creations. She was not gifted physically, and sustaining any damage would have an effect. However, his action comes too late as she seems to recede into the shadows. In spite of her obtuse nature, the killing intent is not lost on her, and a further message is understood. One of them could not be.