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 Posted: Thu Oct 13, 2005 3:35 am
At 1 AM, the Gaian Regional HQ of the Fleet is dark and still.
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Posted: Thu Oct 13, 2005 4:35 am
Burgundia tied back her hair that night, in another swatch of the rose-red material she seemed to have endless supply of; she'd covered her shoulders, too, and her face was still and blank as she slipped into the boxlike section where the microwave lived. She had to dodge cables, and it was pitch black with cobwebs; she was fumbling for anything, whatever she could find that wasn't just microwave.
She'd asked God to give her the strength not to go there tonight. God hadn't answered.
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Posted: Thu Oct 13, 2005 7:07 pm
Hidden around the cables was a clingfilm-wrapped half of an orange-iced cupcake. Stuck to it was a note, and another clingfilm-wrapped parcel of powder. The Shabby Man Miss Burgundia, Here is a piece of cupcake for you. Isn't it big? It's a half of a whole cupcake just for you. I generously gave you such a big piece because I have a big job for you. I trust you with this job. The first part of your job is to give the powder to your big brother! It's nice to share things. Who knows what it will do. The second part of your job is sneakier, it is to go to Mr. Aleric and take the pretty pin he has in his golden hair. That is just a joke and a trick and it is nothing mean. But since these are such big jobs I gave you a big piece of cupcake and once you do them there will be more. When you've done this go to the microwave late at night and change the time on it to 3:25. Leave the pin here. This will be our sign. I hope you are as good a girl as your sister. Your friend, the Shabby Man There was nothing else.
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Posted: Thu Oct 13, 2005 8:59 pm
All she could do was stare at the note, trembling, sitting next to the microwave and reading it by the light of the LEDs. When a hand was placed on her shoulder, Burgundia let out a shriek.
"It's me, sweetling."
"Casca? What are you - how - surely - "
"I'm a nosy boy," he said cheerfully. "I read other people's mail." The ice feien sat down to read beside her, one arm around her limp shoulder as he squinted at the print. "And you know what I said about sneaking out, Dee-dear."
"I - I just - I wasn't going to - "
Her brother touched her flushed cheek, gently, and snagged the bag of powder out of her unresisting hands. "My goodness, I don't know whether to snort this or inhale. Whatever Mr. Shabby wants, I suppose." Then - to her unending horror - he just opened the plastic bag and tipped the contents into his mouth.
"Cascati, you're costin' me tears, pain and sweat over here, don't you dare - " but it was too late, no amount of walloping his back would bring it back up. He'd swallowed, making a face at the taste, giving her a benign smile as he tossed the piece of plastic somewhere over his shoulder.
"Needs salt, dearling," he said, and Burgundia burst into tears.
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