The program for the Guild Academy was quite thin, there were speeches by the various department-heads, luckily Physics and Engineering were during different times and in different spaces, there were tours of the departments that you could attend if you wanted and there were rooms for the various professors, if you wanted to get to know them. All in all, it seemed rather rudimentary, especially compared to the AISG-program that I had been handed as well.

The AISG, or the Accord Island Student Government, was, according to their program, a voluntarily run and funded organisation, trying to give the students on Accord Island a collected voice, to make Accord Island an inclusive and diverse environment. It sounded not bad, so l would look into their activities, if they sounded good. There was a general fair, for all the varied student activity groups and clubs, held in the inner ring, the area around the Guild Academy, where all the oldest schools were located. As it was close by, I decided to take a look at it, as it seemed interesting. In addition, I had no desire to return to the dorm.

Taking one of the trams brought me to the inner ring and I decided on a direction and started walking. It was fascinating, there were stalls for everything from a chess-club to ultimate frisbee. I walked on and entered an area for cooking clubs, hosting clubs for every possible cuisine on the planet, and a few that seemed slightly alien to me. I kept walking, looking around and taking the smells in, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Finally, I was drawn to a particular stall by an irresistible smell.

The stall was simple in construction and signage, just a couple of tables holding machines and a single sign saying “Coffee” proclaiming their intent, an island of simplicity in an ocean of over-the-top attention-seekers. But they did not need a sign, they did not need to advertise at all. Those that needed to find them would find them, guided by the smell of good Coffee.

“One cup, please.” I asked, need tinging my voice.

“Of course. Cream or Sugar?” the student behind the counter asked. My only answer was a glare that should have set the surroundings on fire and burned the heretic for the suggestion to desecrate such great coffee.

Another student, not the one who had asked, handed me a mug, filled with steaming dark liquid, the nectar of the gods. Taking a deep breath, I smelled the brew, enjoying the smell as my mouth started to water.

No words were spoken, they allowed me to savour the coffee as it was meant to be savoured, not disturbing the moment. Finally I took a deep swallow, enjoying the bitter aroma, before looking up with a sigh.

The guy who had asked if I wanted cream was grinning widely, the girl who had handed me a mug was smiling as well.

“Well, you passed the tests. Would you like to join our club?” she asked.

“What do you mean? What sort of club is this?” I asked, slightly confused.

“Simple. The first test is your reaction to the offer of cream and sugar, the second is your reaction to our coffee-blend. You passed both of them and thus, you are offered membership in the club of coffee connoisseurs.” she explained.

I had to laugh at the tests, they were rather whimsical.

“What does your club offers? I’m not sure I can participate in any activities, as I’m pursuing a dual major.” I explained.

“Ah, there are two different types of membership. One is active, the other passive. Our club has a number of club-houses or rather coffee-shops on the Island. All Club Members get a discount and access to our special blend, passive club-members have to pay a contribution, active members have to work shifts, they are getting paid, but it is a solemn duty.” the guy explained.

I had to laugh, something like that could likely only exist here. A club of active coffee-addicts, they should call it Coffeeholics Anonymous or something like that.

“So, how do I join?” I asked, they had me when I smelled their coffee.

“Here, take this.” the girl handed me a flyer, “There is a unique code inside, so take good care of it. Inside, you find a link to our website, which has the exact process. It also has a map of our club-houses, so you can find them easily.”

Taking another sip of the coffee, I was in heaven. Unless they wanted something truly ridiculous, I would gladly join. Maybe even if they wanted something ridiculous.

“Thank you, I will definitely look into it. How much do I owe for the first cup?” I asked. Their quoted price was on the expensive side, but oh so worth it, causing me to happily pay for another cup, to take with me.

Now, fortified with steamy deliciousness, I continued my way over the fairground, looking at different clubs but nothing caught my interest.

“Diana, hey, Diana!” a voice called out behind me, causing me to stop and look. It was Karen, dragging Tanisha and some guy with her.

“Hello Karen, Tanisha.” I greeted them.

“Hi Diana, meet David, he lives in the dorm next to ours, we met on the train in the morning!” Karen introduced their companion. He was quite tall, around one-eighty, one-eighty-five with a fit build and longish dishwater-blonde hair. Rugged good looks, I think they called it, in essence, he looked like he had climbed out of some commercial for surfing products, or something like that.

“Hello David.” I greeted him with a polite nod.

“Why don’t we go around together?” Tanisha suggested. I had no problem with that, so I joined them. It turned out that David and Karen were enrolled in the same school and had some classes together, making the two of them happy and gravitate to each other. I stuck with my roommate, getting to know her better.

“Woah, over there!” Karen enthused suddenly, pointing to a large and colourful stall, with signage reading “Future Superheroes of America” in Red-White-Blue letters, next to a star-spangled banner. The stall was currently manned by one guy in normal clothes and a female in a white swimsuit, long, heeled boots and a mask. There was a line to wait in and it seemed like the woman was giving autographs.

“She looks…” I started, wanting to suggest that she looked like she should look for work at a street-corner, when Karen interrupted.

“She looks so awesome, right?! That’s Starburst, you know? She’s one of the greatest heroines in the US!” she blurted out.

Part of me was curious, why would anyone use such a costume, if one could call it that. Even if her powers made things like defensive value unimportant, something I was itching to put to the test, a costume should also make an effort to conceal the identity of the wearer. Her costume just screamed that people should try to find out her real identity to take advantage of, unwritten rules be damned. If she wanted to make it so easy, she should reap the rewards.

Karen pretty much pulled us all along, while Tanisha pretended not to care, but she was still focused on going to the stall. Using my glasses to scan her as we walked up, I itched to let Galatea loose on her identity, but at the end of the day, it did not matter. She was here for the PR, to recruit people for their club and later into their organisation. They made a big spiel about mundane humans working together with Powered, to make the world a better place. The crowd was eating it up and the attractive female form next to him was capturing most of the male and not just a few females gazes on herself.

My three companions desperately wanted an autograph, so I joined them, not wanting to draw attention.

Karen went first, bubbling with excitement, “Thank you for your service, Ma’am! It’s an honour to meet someone so great!” she managed to squeak out, while shaking the heroine’s hand.

“Thank you, miss.” the scantily clad heroine answered, keeping a professional smile.

The other two went next, both with barely concealed enthusiasm and finally, it was my turn. Finally, we would get out of the line.

“Nice to meet you, Starburst.” I said, with a polite smile on my face.

“Thanks, nice to meet you, too.” she answered, her smile changing a little.

As we were leaving, Karen was still bubbling with enthusiasm. “She is so great, can you believe we met her? We shook a true hero’s hand, someone who truly matters. If I only was a Powered, I would join up in a hot minute.”

“Yes, speaking with a real Powered like her was inspiring, maybe I can help someone like her one day.” David agreed, with a vapid smile on his face.

I could not stand them going on and on about the greatness of some stripper-heroine, so I split, citing the need to attend a tour at my school. There were tours, but they went on the whole week and one could attend them outside of class, if needed.