sunnyshadow (sunnyshadow) wrote in bearandbarnacle, @ 2008-08-17 04:14:00 |
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Current mood: | accomplished |
Entry tags: | bedrooms, topic, xelpost |
Xellos: Topic: Bedrooms
Xel's eyes pop open in the dark, and he finds he's covered in sweat. Ugh. There are dreams a person just shouldn't have, and that was one of them. The fluffy, pastel lambs were bad enough without the pink aprons about their necks and yellow stars (of Justice, he's sure in the way of nightmares, even though nothing distinguished them from perfectly ordinary pentagram-type stars) shining from their foreheads, and the little trails of blood in the grass from their thorn-encircled hooves were, he thinks, absolutely unnecessary, to say nothing of the dream-immediacy of at once seeing and feeling them be crunched up by the shining silver fangs of a harmless looking cave
The whole thing was unnecessary. He's sure he would have figured out what had been bothering him in a few days--within the week, certainly--without the back of his brain macing him in the nose with a mint-green and baby-blue spikeball. Still, no point wasting time now he knows, and there's always a chance She had sent it because there was none to waste.
He sighs and eases himself up, running a slow hand down the warm back next to him. Wake him up? No, let him see the note in the morning. Slipping out of their bed, all viney and still smelling faintly of varnish, he stretches out on the floor, because they haven't designed most of the furniture yet for him to build, and takes up his pen.Mis mrstre mrs Mss
Ivonka-san,
If you don't feel too strong a loyalty to your current employer to think of it, then please consider this offer of a position at the Bear and Barnacle. If you accept, you will be asked to take the morning hours as the brunch cook, and when you'd settled in we could discuss whether you would care to also work any afternoon or evening hours. If the offer is of interest, please contact me or Iago-san and we'll go over the details.
He signs it with a quiet sigh, something in his shoulders relaxing, and writes another set of letters, to his mediation company and the physiatrical engineers, signaling his renewed availability for morning work. It's amusingly frustrating, being a workaholic multitasker in a placid little tourist town like this. Maybe it's something wrong with him, but one job just does not cut it anymore, and cooking, while one of his favorite careers in the world, wasn't enough even when he was first alive.
He'll find someone else if she refuses, and maybe a few more people for less responsible posts as well, but he hopes she says yes. He already knows Iago-san can work with her, and from the samples of her cooking Iago-san brought home while still working at the hotel, he knows she can do the job (even if Xel still maintains that the 'mud pie,' while delicious, doesn't count as a dish fit for the gods for which mortals will happily grovel that's made out of dirt, as Certain People have claimed).
After a brief, mildly sulky prayer of thanksgiving, strongly flavored with Moooooom, I can do my ooooown homework, mouuuu.... he goes back to bed. Slipping back under the soft, heavy blankets and twining himself contentedly where he most wants to be, he closes his eyes again in the certainty that taking this step will leave him less out of sorts and chafing. He won't mail anything without discussing it first, of course, but he thinks it'll be all right.
This time, he dreams of black and gold penguin-and-zebra hippogriffs in military uniforms, waltzing with bright copper shovels (shameful flirts, all), and wakes peacefully.