Host: Mira KestrelWith: Elara Roe, Junia LarkPlace: Attic bindery above Kestrel & Daughters PressTimer: Global 68d → (after interlude) 66dLevel/Perks (in): L10 (1188/1200) — Anchor Memory I–II | Thread-Sight I | Lucid Override I | Safehouse Mark (portable) | Backstep (10s, clean)Echo:The Forgetter (quiet, listening)
Morning, Day +1 — Bread, Names, Quiet
The storm is a rumor now; the city smells like wet stone and bakery air. In the attic, the press hulks like a sleeping animal under a canvas sheet. The three of them share a too-low table: crusty loaf, jar of jam, cracked mugs.
Junia writes her name three times on a slip before she eats. She places the slip under her plate like a spell. Elara watches her with gentle vigilance that looks a lot like worship in working clothes.
"You're supposed to eat too," Mira says to Elara.
"I'm supervising the jam," Elara says, then steals a bite from Mira's slice.
They laugh into the steam. It's so ordinary it feels extravagant.
+10 XP: Domestic anchor under lingering hazard (names ritualized) Total: 1198/1200 (L10)
Junia nudges Mira's elbow. "Will the white water try to eat you?"
"It can line up and try," Elara answers first. "We're busy."
Mira smiles. "We're busy," he echoes—and means alive.
Midday — Making the Press a Ledger
They pull the canvas and set the press for long work: tighten the chase, oil the rails, sort the type. Elara shows Mira a hidden compartment in the bed—grandmother trick—and they tuck a thin, ugly book inside: the Index of Indices. Above it, Mira screws a brass plate into the frame: WITNESS-LEDGER // AERLANE.
They design redundancies:
Memory Slips now carry two hashes—one printed, one blind-debossed.
A neighborhood "reading chain": each slip has a next name to read aloud at sundown.
A map of dead drops (flour sacks, toolboxes, altar drawers).
Elara's hands are black with ink by the time they test the run. She grins and kisses the heel of Mira's palm, leaving a crescent print. "Now it's official," she says.
+20 XP: Permanent infrastructure established (city-scale witness channel) LEVEL UP → L11 (1218/1300) Perk Point +1 (unspent now 3)
They draft a simple vow in twelve words and set it in metal:WE HOLD THE NAMES. THE NAMES HOLD US. WITNESS IS MERCY.
They pull a hundred sheets. The press thunks like a heart finding tempo.
Evening — Ink on Thumbs
When the lamplight goes gold, Elara opens the tin of printer's black she gave Mira. She presses Mira's thumb into the black, then her own, and together they stamp the underside of the press bed beside the brass plate—two messy, unmistakable whorls.
"Say it," she murmurs.
"We hold the names. The names hold us. Witness is mercy."
She doesn't kiss him like a stop; she kisses him like a comma—something that lets the sentence continue. Junia—pretending to be asleep—smiles with all her teeth and none of her eyes.
The room changes temperature. The system notices when a place becomes more than its walls.
MINOR PERK UNLOCKED: Safehouse — **Shared** Bind: Attic Bindery ↔ Mira + Elara Effects: • While bonded pair are within the Safehouse together: Echo Suppression +20%, Trickle +1 XP/hr even if HAZARD=Low (cap 10/day). • Either bonded member may "Open the Door" 1x/day: stall hostile civic action at the threshold for 60s (nonviolent pause). • If one is absent but holds a keyed slip: receives +1 Awareness on social checks made in defense of the Safehouse.
Mira breathes once. The room answers—ink, paper, human warmth—a triangulation the Mnemos can't drink.
Junia pads over and holds up her thumb. "Me too?" she whispers.
Elara nods gravely. They ink Junia's thumb and print it right between theirs. The trio looks like a constellation.
+15 XP: Bond vow formalized; Safehouse attuned with companions Total: 1233/1300 (L11) Night — Low Voices, True Things
They sit on the stairs with the door cracked for air, shoulder to shoulder, the city's murmur floating up. Elara talks about her sister's borrowed name, and how sometimes she says both names out loud to keep them from arguing inside her chest.
Mira talks about rain on a window and a laugh he refuses to lose. He doesn't explain Emma; he doesn't have to. Elara's hand finds his. The pressure of her fingers says: Bring your past; I have one too. We'll stack them like plates and feed people on them.
"Tomorrow," Elara says, "we teach the reading chain at the market."
"Tomorrow," Mira says, "the city gets heavier in the right places."
They do, and it does.
Day +2 — Testing the Door
The Cleanliness Unit arrives at noon with a paper warrant and stiff backs. The sergeant knocks with the we know you're in there rhythm.
"Registry inspection," he announces. "Open for review."
Elara squeezes Mira's wrist. Mira lifts a keyed Memory Slip, breathes once, and lays it flat against the threshold. The ink in the slip darkens like it's remembering the sun.
SAFEHOUSE—Shared: **Open the Door** (1/day) — invoked Effect: Nonviolent 60s pause at threshold; hostile action stalled; conversation forced.
"Sergeant," Mira says through the door, voice steady. "Do you remember the Tribunal's notice?" He slides a printed copy under the gap. "Joint-custody of witness ledgers. Removal is contempt."
The pause holds like a held breath. On the other side, pages shuffle; a junior voice whispers. The sergeant sighs the sigh of someone who hates being wrong more than he hates injustice.
"Inspection deferred," he says. "We'll return with counsel."
"You do that," Elara calls sweetly. "Bring better shoes."
Their footsteps retreat. The press keeps thumping. The city keeps learning.
+10 XP: Defused enforcement with policy + Safehouse hold +5 XP: Shared-Safehouse trickle (hour block) Total: 1248/1300 (L11) Dusk — First Shared Dinner, First Plan That Feels Like a Life
They eat at the window: skillet onions, bread, cheap cheese, jam on everything. Junia reads the twelve-word vow between bites. On the street below, neighbors start the sundown reading chain; names carry from stoop to stoop like lanterns.
Elara lays out a year's worth of plates she wants to carve: MISSING IS NOT CLEAN, SPEAK IT TO KEEP IT, WITNESS IS MERCY. Mira sketches a boring, beautiful schedule for the tribunal audits, the reading chain, and meals. He includes days for doing nothing.
"You planned 'nothing'?" Elara teases.
"Nothing is maintenance," he says. "Maintenance is survival."
She kisses him for that sentence alone.
When Junia finally sleeps, Elara rests her head on Mira's shoulder. "You could still stay," she says softly, a wish spoken as a fact.
"I could," he answers, and the ache in his ribs is the exact shape of the life he wants. "If I stop now, I lose on a longer clock."
She nods once. "Then go win. We'll be here. The press will be loud enough to hear from wherever you land."
They print three final sheets and hang them to dry. The last one says nothing but JUNIA LARK in generous type.
Interlude Clear — Rewards & State
INTERLUDE: Aerlane Epilogue (Romance Growth) — CLEAR Boons: • Safehouse: Shared (bound to Elara + Attic Bindery) • Bond Progress: Elara Roe (lover) — Deepen; Junia Lark (ward) — Secure Time Passage: 2 days → GLOBAL COUNTDOWN: 66 days XP Gain (interlude): +60 total → L11 (1248/1300) Perk Points (unspent): 3 Karmic Debts: 0 Anchors: Emma's rainy laugh | Elara at the window | "It eats songs"
Rules:
1) No warrant without ledger.
2) No triage without names.
3) No registry without witness.
4) Don't trade tomorrow's mercy for today's applause.
5) **Witness is mercy** (printed twice).
Elara inks Mira's thumb one last time and presses it to the inside of his sleeve. "For luck," she says.
Junia tucks a Memory Slip into his other cuff. "For remembering," she says gravely.
The floor goes gentle-sideways. The press thumps once, like a heartbeat answering a heartbeat.