[Taking a cue from Acumen's morning announcement, Sasha had set out for the beach and the temporary bamboo structures. She had now changed out of her fancy garb and is dressed in a white blouse paired with the blue skirt Orihime had picked out for her, and simpler sandals on her feet. She had a acquired some statinery and a pencil which she had stowed in a small bookbag. She sat at a bamboo table illuminated by a torch and set out to writing.

There were already a good number of letters held down by her bag on the table after a while -- addressed to 'Albafica,' 'Hasgard,' 'Manigoldo'... and one that was taking time to finish, meant for 'Sisyphus'; alas, writing at the beach meant that chances were high for mischievous winds, and one gust blew away at two written sheets and some blank sheets of paper.]

Ah --!

[Quickly securing what she could of the other sheets, she got up to run after the stray sheets. Damn running in the sand.]

Please...!

[Silly goddess running after a few letters -- but it was important to her, and would call out for a bit of help to anyone passing by...]

And just what is this supposed to be? Did everyone get one or do I have a secret admirer?

[Spike received some mail tonight and a drawing of a cat head didn't exactly make the sender clear to him. He might have had a guess if he knew the Kittys better, but he'd be wrong.]

[It's almost time to go to bed for Ciel...but he's absolutely not tired. So he's just sitting in a chair in his room fiddling with his communicator. He finally just turns it over to Voice and puts it up to his mouth.]

[Normally, Ciel would prefer if no one talked to him. But today it seems like that's all he wants. He feels pretty alone lately. He just wants proof that other people exist and that he's not completely alone in the world.

Maybe that's a childish desire...but Ciel, as usual, doesn't care.]

I'm bored. Talk.

[No, he doesn't realize how rude he sounds as he orders the entire dome to talk to him.]

[It's late. The crowds that gathered for the Celestial Nights have dispersed, leaving only a few inmates out and about, while most are tucked away in their beds. Pride is one of the few, wandering the alleys, looking, listening, smelling for something.

Annoyance at Gluttony's hunger pangs have left him searching for a meal once again. Something to take the pain away even for a short while. Something more delectable than the dead meat in the kitchens or those lizards that roamed the streets a week ago. Something alive. Something human, or close.

The artificial light of the moon and streetlamps makes casting a shadow no problem at all.

He sniffs the air, searching for easy prey. Someone who smells alone. Someone who could disappear without a trace, without a companion to problematize things.]