@ Ome:  It's a day later that you're released from the hospital, but a few hours after the geckoboi, who struts out in his human form, green hair tousled in his emerald eyes and cute belly sagging.  As for you, a little paperwork and you're back outside in the fresh, with a letter of clean diagnosis, a glimmering leather belt and a note of your credited bank account.  The world is your oyster now, or, at least, your world is, and everyone who wanted to be a part of it by watching you two nights back.  As you step down the streets, you get a brief tingle every now and then - not, sadly, of excitement, but something more ominous.  Every now and then you can feel a blue spark of static juggle across your fingertips.  Maybe you should pick up your feet a little bit, or so you might think, if your stride were not as proud and full as it were...<br/><br/>@ Chiro:  "Uwah?" The professor shakes his head and stumbles back in your arms as he nearly falls over, not nearly heavy enough to disturb your balance, however.  He looks at you confused for a moment, and stumbles back out of your arms over to the stairs.  "Baron... where's Baron?<br/><br/>Baron was greeted to the curious beauty that only books that old could offer, and the comfort of a chair that was one in a million despite there being so many just like it.  Just right.  Just right in a way one can't describe a chair.  And the text seemed to draw him in with its old paper scent and ramblings of old magic... conceptually, things that haven't been taught for ages and their integration with rather ambiguously complex machinery... airships?  Paddleboats?  Elemental binding... such strange and wondrous things, no?