Of Mars and Moon Summerfield!SUCWE8qxgU 2015/03/20 (Fri) 18:34 No. 60512 [Reply] ▼
Another dreamless night.
You lie in bed a while, staring up at nothing, thinking of nothing.
Lacking senses. Lacking orientation.
You sneeze, and notice yourself.
Sniffling and sighing, you drag yourself out of bed, stepping into a pair of bunny slippers. Pink, white, and fuzzy, they were the first thing you’d bought for yourself when you had finally moved out of that glorified basement of an interception base, resolving never again to suffer the indignity of cold floors in the morning. You throw on a bathrobe, too, garishly floral, and stuff your nightstand pistol into the left pocket, suppressor poking neatly out of the hole in the bottom.
Yawning, you trod over to the washroom, where you take a single look in the mirror, and immediately give up on the idea of trying to fight the bird’s-nest tangle claiming to be your hair. You have no plans of meeting anyone today, anyway. Still, you go through the rest of your morning ritual, brushing your teeth and washing your face, letting the cool water wash away the last remnants of drowsiness.
Sunlight peers through translucent curtains, lending a pleasant early-morning glow to the cream-walled apartment. You take a quick detour through the kitchen, emerging back into the living room already munching on a cheese sandwich.
You are just about to flick on the television, when your doorbell rings.
The peep-hole shows … nobody?
You stuff your mouth with the cheddared toast, freeing up a hand to keep your pistol behind your back as you cautiously open the door …
… the hallway is empty. There is a small parcel lying on your doorstep. A cursory inspection reveals a brief message, scrawled in permanent marker:
So it was from Molchanoff. You set it down on the coffee table and sit down to unwrap it.
——your breath catches in your throat.
It is a mug. On its side is emblazoned a familiar black-and-gold flash, gaudy and glorious.
You hold it up in front of yourself, sinking backward into the sofa. Sinking backward into a wave of emotion, despi
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