There was a fwoom of displaced energy, and with a yelp, Foaly jerked back, almost stumbling over his own hooves to avoid the bright orange beam that came rushing right at his face.

"Oi! Watch where you're throwing that stuff!"

One of the warlocks on the other side of the glass – the glass that should've blocked that magic, D'Arvit, not let it pass right through – looked sheepish. "Sorry, Foaly."

"Sorry? You'd better be sorry, you have any idea how difficult it'd be to find a replacement for me?"

With an indignant huff, the centaur retreated to what would hopefully be a safer distance.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Sorry, he says. Well, he'll sure be sorry if the Commander hears about this..."

Behind him, the doors whooshed open. Holly paused, just on the other side of the portal, a look halfway between exasperation and amusement on her face.

"Foaly," she began. "Since when did the doors go whoosh?"

Thoroughly distracted from his near-death experience, the centaur grinned and turned to his elfin friend. "Since three days ago. You like 'em?"

Holly rolled her eyes, stepping fully into the room and letting the doors whoosh shut behind her. "You just did that to annoy Artemis the next time he comes down, didn't you."

It wasn't a question.

"I might have."

The captain snickered, shaking her head ruefully for a moment before fixing a more serious expression in place. "So, how are things going?"

Foaly gestured to the lab before them. "See for yourself. Careful, the orange stuff can go through glass."

Holly stepped forward, leaning forward slightly to get a better look through the little window and into the lab on the other side.

It looked pretty much like any other lab she'd seen – clean, white, and sterile, filled with cabinets, tables, counters, analysis screens (highest quality, of course, Section Eight didn't skimp), and pretty much every other piece of equipment under the moon.

Unlike most labs, most of said equipment had been pushed alongside the wall or underneath the tables, covered in tarp, and probably covered with every magic-repellant in the Lower Elements, including a glowing, crackly substance that looked too much like dwarf spit for her comfort. The tell-tale white coats of lab workers were also conspicuously absent, instead replaced by the black uniforms of Section Eight warlocks. Some of the fairies nodded upon seeing her on the other side of the glass, others didn't so much as look up, focusing with intense concentration on the tables before them or their hands – or, in several cases, the glowing lights in their hands.

Most of said lights were dim, flickering, and sputtering like candles in a breeze, but two familiar demonic figures in the throng sported brighter lights dancing easily in their hands, more akin to firecrackers than candles.

"Qwan, No. 1!" She called through the speaker beside the glass. "How have things been going?"

The two creatures looked up, and the slightly smaller of the two – No. 1 himself, in all his short, grey-pebble-scaled and orange-runed glory – grinned upon seeing their visitor.

"Hello, Holly!" he said. Extinguishing the dark blue light in his hands, he skipped over to the window. "How have you been? I haven't seen you in months!"

The elf managed a wry grin. Almost a year ago, a small team of fairies had been sent to finally quote-un-quote "rescue" the team that had been stranded on the LEP's new moon base during the Crash. Holly had been part of the welcoming party when they'd finally touched down to earth several months later, and boy, had that been an emotional reunion.

"I've been doing alright." She nodded to the little warlock's hands. "I see you've been busy."

He perked up considerably, and with a wave of one hand, summoned the dark blue light again. "Oh, yes, we've been very busy, engaged, occupied! The reverse spellcasting process is very time-consuming!"

Reverse spellcasting. Holly still couldn't wrap her head around the idea. Reverse engineering she could comprehend – well, okay, somewhat comprehend, but who could blame her for missing a few details in Foaly's impossibly complex lectures on the subject? – but magic? Magic was unique to the caster, and shouldn't be able to be mimicked.

But apparently, mimicry was possible with Section Eight's specially trained research warlocks, and No. 1 and his former teacher had eagerly risen to the occasion.

"I can only guess," she said grudgingly. She eyed the swirling blue light in the demon's claws. "I can barely wrap my head around mimicking fairy magic, let alone monster magic."

Qwan strode up, chuckling. "It's actually a very simple process, Captain."

Behind her, Foaly snorted. "Simple. Yeah, right."

"Well, it is actually," No. 1 said. "All we're doing is translating the signatures picked up by the MagiScanners into electrical currents, which our brains interpret as the sensation of magic usage, and then all we have to do is match our magic to the sensation, and –"

Holly held up her hand quickly before he could continue. Geniuses. "Okay, thanks for explaining. You found anything yet?"

Qwan summoned a blob of violet energy into his own hand. "So far, we've successfully imitated four forms of magic, and ascertained the function of three." He dissipated the purple, and gestured to his former apprentice besides him. "Dark blue magic seems to have a gravitational effect, changing the way gravity effects an object and allowing for a sort of telekinetic control of it." He summoned a lighter blue orb into his hand. "Light blue magic, on the other hand, only seems to affect moving objects. We found that out by accident."

Foaly huffed again. "By using me for target practice!"

Holly stifled a snigger.

"I already apologized for that, my friend." Qwan said mildly, though he too looked amused at the centaur's whining. "Orange magic, which was the most recently identified, has a similar affect, but only effects objects standing still. If you move through it, you're very much unharmed."

How had the monsters even begun to figure this stuff out?

"Unfortunately," Qwan continued, "that's all we have so far. There seems to be some unknown factor affecting our ability to mimic these magicks – perhaps a lack of magical reserves, since No. 1 and I have had the least trouble so far."

"What about the unidentified signature?"

He shook his head. "We've managed the electrical translation, but unfortunately, we have yet to be able to imitate it. I'm sorry."

Holly waved her hand. "It's fine. Just keep trying, alright?"

No. 1 looked up at her hopefully. "Has Artemis found anything?"

Foaly snorted. "If he had, we'd already be neck deep in troll dung."

Holly smacked him on the shoulder. "We tried asking him yesterday. He doesn't have anything yet, but knowing him, he'll probably figure something out by the end of the week."

The warlock nodded. "Alright. Well, we better have something for him too, by then!" He turned back to his table, an eager spark creeping into his eyes. "How about we try that purple magic again, Qwan?"

As the two demons wandered back to work, Holly shook her head and then turned back to the door. Just before she left, however, she stopped, and shot a grin at Foaly over her shoulder.

"Hey."

"Yeah?" He sounded wary, and rightfully so, because that was Holly's I'm about to offend you for shits and giggles expression.

"Why are you even working with these guys, anyway? Aren't you useless with magic?"

Foaly's angry braying could probably be heard all the way across Haven.

Muffet's Bakery was a tiny little storefront strategically placed between one of Dublin's monster communities and the business district, and decorated with an elaborate array of purple and white awnings and delicate spider decorations. It was very deliberately eye-catching, and when Frisk finally convinced Toriel to take them there for a break, the inside of the restaurant was just as elegant as the outside, and packed with a mix of human and monster customers.

Muffet herself was at the register, talking with one of the customers. Frisk waited until the man walked off with his muffin, and then sprung up to the counter, grinning.

"Hey, Muffet!" they chirped. The spider turned towards them, and then beamed upon seeing the ambassador.

"Why, if it isn't my favorite customer! Hello dearie, it's been some time!"

Several arachnids on the counter nearby lifted their front legs and waved eagerly at them in greeting. Frisk waved back.

"Yeah, it has been. And it looks like you're doing really well here, too, you've got a lot of customers!"

Muffet giggled, winking at them with one facetted eye and gesturing to some of her spiders with her many hands. "Oh, you wouldn't believe it, but this is actually one of our slower days!" A small bag peeked into view over the counter, supported by a multitude of tiny legs, and she plucked it up easily, holding it up for Frisk to see. "I've fixed up a new treat recently that I think you'll just love, dear! Spider rolls! Thick, sweet, and creamy, with chocolate drizzle!"

*Oooooooh, chocolate!

Stop drooling.

*I'm not!

Frisk shot the monster a look. "And how much do you want for it?"

She giggled again. "You know me too well! For you, dearie, a thirty-percent discount!"

Which meant that Frisk still ended up bartering for two rolls – one with chocolate, for Chara, one without – for almost all of the pocket money they had one their person, which was a considerable amount.

"Why does she charge you so much?" Toriel wondered, shooting the spider a glare as they sat down at one of the little tables. "Surely she knows a normal child cannot afford these?"

Mouth full of spider roll – it was really good, easily the best of Muffet's pastries they'd eaten in sixteen Resets – Frisk shrugged.

"Most've her stuff is for catering, I think," they mumbled. "Y'know, food for parties. That's gotta be expensive."

It probably was, though Frisk had a suspicion that the high prices were actually because of a threat posed by a certain Humanity's Resurgence group. Muffet was probably saving up just in case she needed to pay for building repairs or medical care for her spiders.

*We can't just keep calling them Humanity's Resurgence, it's too long.

How about HR for short?

*Nah, sounds too friendly of an acronym… how about HuRg?

Frisk barely managed to stifle their laughter. You mean, like the puking sound?

*Exactly!

Still struggling not to snicker, they took another bite of pastry, and cast a surreptitious look around the shop. It really was astonishing just how many human customers the spiders had – most people didn't like creepy-crawlies. But, they supposed, if anybody here didn't like spiders, they weren't letting it get in the way of good food.

The bell above the door let out another tinkle as someone new came in, and Frisk automatically turned to see who it was. Two women had just come in. One, the shorter of the two by a couple of inches, looked to be in her mid-forties, with small creases just beginning to appear in the skin at the corners of her eyes and mouth – smile lines – and an amazingly lush head of dark hair, streaked with grey, and bright, cheery eyes. The other woman looked younger by a couple decades, with a set of stunning Eurasian features, blonde hair, and had a build akin to Undyne's, lean and muscled.

*Don't flirt with her.

Frisk huffed. I won't!

*You sure?

I'm sure!

Chara snorted in disbelief, but stayed quiet as Frisk turned away from the two new customers and dutifully finished their roll. There was a distant murmuring of conversation, and just as they were licking the last of the sweet taste off their fingers, Chara suddenly spoke up.

*Hey, those two ladies are coming over here.

They looked up just as the two incoming reached their table.

"Pardon me," the older woman said, "but are you Monster Ambassador Frisk?"

Frisk quickly wiped off their fingers on their napkin and sat up ramrod straight. "Yes ma'am, that'd be me."

Her eyes lit up like fireworks. "I thought so!" She held out one hand. "My name is Angeline Fowl, it's a pleasure to meet you!"

A little surprised – adults never shook their hand first, not when Toriel or one of the other monsters was around – Frisk accepted the handshake with a firm one of their own. "Nice to meet you two, Mrs. Fowl."

Then the introduction finally registered, and it was all they could do not to gape. "Wait. Fowl as in the United Nations representative Fowl?"

The blonde woman snickered, and Mrs. Fowl looked a little sheepish. "Ah, well, yes. I take it you've heard of him…?"

Frisk grinned. "I've read a lot about him! Youngest representative ever, inventor of the solar-powered four-seater plane, openly pro-monster, and I heard he was one of the guys that funded that cool mural down by the docks!"

A look of relief and wry humor swept across the woman's face, even as the blonde kept snickering. "Well, that would certainly be him. He's done quite well for himself, hasn't he?" Now she turned to Toriel, offering another smile. "And you would be Queen Toriel, I take it?"

The monster nodded. "Yes, that would be me."

"Wonderful, wonderful!" She reached into her purse – expensive-looking purse, Frisk noted – fished around for a moment, then brought out a thick stack of envelopes, decorated in fine gold designs and sealed shut with what looked like wax, complete with a coat of arms. When Mrs. Fowl turned back towards them, her smile was a tad shy.

"I was hoping I would run into you, though I'll admit I didn't expect to!" She held out the envelopes, and Frisk took them, handing one to Toriel before looking at the rest curiously. "My family and I are holding a gala three weeks from now – I would be honored if you and any of your monster acquaintances would come!"

Frisk's jaw dropped. Wait what?

"Yeah, that's Madam Fowl for you," the blonde woman told them, grinning. "She and Mr. Fowl go all out, let me tell you –"

"I'd love to!" Frisk blurted. "Oh, uh, sorry, I mean –" They struggled to school their expression into something more proper. "I, uh, thank you for your invitation, and I fully intend on being there!"

Mrs. Fowl smiled in indulgent amusement. "There's no need for such formality, Ambassador! Some people may care about that, but I already get far too much formality at home!" She turned towards Toriel, giving her a small little curtsey. "Will you be attending as well, Your Majesty?"

"But of course! I can hardly let my child go unsupervised, can I?"

This earned a knowing smile. "Oh, trust me, I know. My little Arty brought so much trouble when he was younger, and his younger brothers! The less said about their antics, the better!" She shook her head, bemused. "Well, since you and several other monsters will probably be attending, I can direct you towards some excellent tailors here in town, if you want..."

Barely a few minutes later, the two women left, and Frisk was struggling not to vibrate in their seat. Even when they said an enthusiastic goodbye to all the monsters there, it was an automatic gesture, because their mind was focused on the envelopes in their hand.

We just got invited to a party held by the Fowl family! The Fowls! I can't believe it!

*We have got to be dreaming. We've got to be, there's no way…

Toriel chuckled at them. "Well, someone is excited!"

Frisk cast her a huge grin, so huge it might've even put Sans's to shame. "You have no idea, mom. No idea."

Poor Foaly, demoted to a target because he has no magic! That can't be doing his massive ego any good :D

And yay, Frisk's finally met a Fowl! Not Artemis yet, but we'll get there!

And, since people will probably be confused about the whole "reverse engineering magic" thing, I might as well clarify that for you guys! Despite what Holly says in the chapter, the colored magicks aren't actually specific to the monsters - all three races in this story are capable of using them. It's just that the fairies never learned how, and have no records of humans being able to use that sort of magic since it was mostly used in the Americas, where the monsters were, so they didn't know it existed until they saw monsters using it.

And in case people don't get why I didn't classify the colored magic as purely monster magic, two reasons: Firstly, the six souls. The color of each of those souls is attributed to a single form of magic, some of which Frisk is capable of using with assistance (green magic and yellow magic, for instance). If it was monster-specific, Frisk probably couldn't use it even with help. Secondly: In the Artemis Fowl series, fairy magic is described at least once as a "blue plasma," but it does change color depending on the type of magic being used (at least, I think so? I think the Berserker Gate's magic in Book 8 was red, right?) So, therefore, for this fanfic, it would make sense if monster magic were the same, only it's white instead of blue. Make sense?