Morgan bounced on the balls of her feet as she walked up the porch steps with Uncle Malachy, wishing she could kick off her sandals. But bare feet were something people in this neighborhood only saw on the beach. If then.
Her uncle poked a gentle finger at the doorbell, holding the button down a polite span of seconds before lifting his hand away. “Remember, things are breakable.”
Morgan tried not to smile, thinking about their front door last night, a vase Aunt Shionne had never liked anyway, and Malachy’s quietly sheepish expression.
“Funny,” her uncle said dryly. “I’ll figure it out. Your aunt’s interested in helping with the dungeon runs, if they work out the way Aladdin asked Baal to do it.” He frowned. “Worried about Tiburon.”
Morgan nodded, a little worried herself. Instructor Tiburon was a skilled, intuitive master of anything that had a sharp edge and at least a dozen weapons that didn’t. But he hadn’t believed in magic, he definitely didn’t believe in past lives, and he’d only skeptically believed in magoi after Principal Cavins had used it to thump him over the head. Literally. That’d been one impressive duel. “Alan will help.”
“Someone he won’t kill by accident,” Malachy agreed, voice low as footsteps approached inside. He straightened his shoulders, managing a look of polite looming Dougal and Ianatan still couldn’t pull off, no matter how much they practiced in front of a mirror.
Crossover Queen's Creative Chaos 
I’m still not convinced that “polite looming” is actually something that can be “learned”. I’m pretty sure it’s something that has to be “earned”. (outward expression of one’s nature, and thus only possible if one has actually acquired the appropriate nature to express) But it’s quite impressive when someone is capable of it.
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No idea; I’m not exactly someone who can loom. But it’s fun to picture. 🙂
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