Magic is to Domino City what questionable decisions are to Las Vegas. It just goes hand-in-hand. You don't go to Domino without understanding that you're gonna run into some weird shit, is my point, and I think most people know that.

To the point where I think you can tell a local from a visitor based purely on how they react to something "Impossible."

I don't think that was my idea for the theme of this scene when I read the prompt, but it kinda sneaked its way in there, regardless.

.

"Was this a mistake? I feel like I have upset him. He is so much more intense than usual."

Mokuba laughed as he watched his brother stomp through the house, gathering things seemingly at random. Seto already had a notepad tucked under one arm and two pencils held in his teeth. He had a thin-line marker tucked behind his right ear.

"No," Mokuba said, patting Kisara's arm. "No, not at all. I think you just made sure Niisama is about to have the best weekend of this year."

Kisara's face scrunched up in confusion. "All I said was that I should like to have a computer like yours."

Mokuba nodded. "Building computers is Niisama's favorite hobby. Except dueling, I guess, but sometimes I feel like that one shouldn't even count. It's like saying a fish's favorite hobby is swimming."

Kisara gestured randomly as Seto thundered through the room again. "Does he need the tape measure? Why is he grabbing a toolbox? What possible need could he have for so much equipment? Do computers not come already made?"

"They do," Mokuba said, "but Niisama doesn't like them. He says it's cheating. He's gonna build your rig from the ground up, and he's probably gonna set you up with a new desk, too. He calls it a battle station. Don't be surprised if you end up with a new chair to match."

Kisara frowned thoughtfully; she crossed her arms over her chest and watched Seto set all of his various tools and notes onto a table. He pulled one of the pencils from his mouth and started to sketch, all the while peppering his bodyguard with questions. What did she want to do with her new system? What was the most important part of what she wanted to do with it? What was her priority? Curved or flatscreen? VR? Ultra-wide? Liquid cooling? All the while, Mokuba helped Kisara along by quietly translating most of what Seto was asking, once it became clear that Kisara was not following the line of inquiry at all.

"You just want to be able to watch movies and play games, yeah?" Mokuba asked.

"I like Skyrim," Kisara said.

Mokuba snickered. "Naturally."

"I am imminently qualified for this game," Kisara declared, quite proudly. "I am the true Dragonborn."

They both took note when Seto started humming under his breath; Mokuba was certain he heard "Dovahkiin" at least twice. He patted Kisara's arm again. "It's okay. He's got what he needs. I'll explain everything if you have any questions later. Niisama forgets that not everybody knows the stuff about technology that he does."

"I doubt very much that it helps that he spends the majority of his time around you and Noa," Kisara noted. "You both, after all, follow along quite easily, yes?" Mokuba nodded. "I think that my prince might find himself just as lost as I am now, were I to explain the intricacies of magic as I understand it. Feats he accomplishes intuitively, there are many webs and weavings. It is quite intricate, what your brother does with the threads of Fate."

Mokuba frowned. "So, what? Niisama is a wizard?"

"No, no." Kisara shook her head. "To call him a wizard would be to imply that he has dedicated rigorous study to the arcane. This is not what your brother does. Magic, when it is wrought by my dear little prince, is a performance. It speaks to the souls of all who experience it, and in that way influences many more destinies than just his own. Were I to prescribe . . . shall we call it, a ruleset, to what your brother does, I should call him a bard."

"A bard?" Mokuba looked incredulous. "Seriously?"

"Does this surprise you so much?" Kisara blinked. "Think back upon the most memorable things your brother has done. His greatest feats. How many of them have involved a stage? A crowd sweeping across the whole of the horizon? A speech to rouse the spirits? Bards are not musicians, but performers."

". . . Huh." Mokuba quirked an eyebrow. "What about me? What am I?"

"Rogue," Kisara and Seto said at the same time, immediately.