02 | [Written]

2014-01-04T19:54:25Z

[Christmas has come and gone, leaving Varrick a little disappointed. Sure, the late present he got from Santa was… nice... but it wasn’t at all what he was hoping for. Maybe the mistletoe tally was to blame. Maybe if he’d scored a few more points, he would’ve gotten the thing he’d put at the top of his list to Santa.

So as he sat on the wooden seat of his new canoe (which was actually his old canoe; he’d recognize those scratches anywhere) he made a personal note not to rely on Santa anymore. Of course, without Zhu Li around to put that note on paper, he’d forgotten about it within minutes and it took him a two additional days to remember what it was that he’d wanted to do.

Finally, on the 4th of January, he flips open his journal and starts writing in a loopy, cursive manner.]

Wanted: Personal assistant.

Requirements: Must be by my side at all times. Must know how to write and read. Must not question my authority. Must be able to follow commands at a second’s notice. Must have a good sense of fashion. Must be able to make tea. Must be able to move a canoe from a second floor apartment to the river. Massage skills preferable but not mandatory. Good singing voice preferable but not mandatory.

Payment for services will be delivered in the form of

[For the longest moment, Varrick has to think about how to continue that sentence. In fact, he spends so long pondering about it that he starts to absentmindedly scribble on the paper. Then, finally, he jots down:]

I’ll think of something later. Open to suggestions.

Sincerely,
Varrick

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01 | [Action]

2013-12-05T17:49:43Z

[Heavy snow is falling in Luceti today, the temperature reaching well to the freezing point as a pure white blanket covers the village. Surely, this is no day for anyone to be out without a shirt. It's just too bad New Feathers don't get the memo until it's too late and the Malnosso can be very unforgiving.

If someone were to wander the streets, they would encounter one such New Feather in a particularly troublesome predicament. This poor fellow, who's kneeling on the ground, seems to have gotten his face stuck to a lamppost. Upon closer inspection, they'll find it's just his tongue that's frozen itself to the metal surface. He's uttering a whole slew of what might be cursewords, complaints, pleas or even a mix of the three. Whatever it is, it's completely inaudible.

Seriously, someone help this guy out before he either freezes to death or loses his tongue permanently.]

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"I'm always there to stand up for the little guy"

02 | [Written]

01 | [Action]