chikaidestroyer | ∞ 72: Observing the white season [written/action]

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∞ 72: Observing the white season [written/action]

[written]

I don't suppose anyone has measured just how deep the snow is now? There haven't been long enough breaks in the weather to allow the snow to melt significantly.

It had been an early worry this season that some residents may be snowed in with the very cold weather we've had. Hopefully everyone is being careful about keeping an eye out for New Feathers and returning abductees.

[action]

[Albert has been spending less time in the house lately, for a variety of reasons -- exploring the new community building next to the house, taking care of his horse with the snowing continuing to pile up, and other things exposing him to the elements.

Today, Albert is in the bar, tucked in one of the booths with his journal and some wine. Perhaps he's hoping to get another Kanakan bottle from the bartender. Or he just needs the din of noise to help him think. Or perhaps he's waiting for something to happen.

Later, he'll arrive back at his house in the dark, in the early evening.]

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That's the beauty of the modern age. [She doodles a little, blocky cell phone, and with an arrow indicates a quick block of text.] We have things that are kind of like these journals--you can call anyone up whenever you want, so long as you have their number. Only they work with electricity instead of magic.

And to think that there are even more advanced worlds out there. [Not counting Luceti; he doesn't want to speculate on the Shifting technology anymore than they already have over the journals.] I can see why you would want your 'mod-cons.'

Was telling Raine about them before my run-in with drones. [She drops out a few words for the sake of speed. Or maybe, of effort.] Even making food here is tough. I'd trade my fav pair of jeans for a microwave.

[Another tap of the pen. You and your fancy technology, Buffy.] Microwave? A cooking utensil? [It sounded related to electricity. Maybe he should have written 'device' instead.]

Think of a box. Like, a bread-box! [Her exclamation mark is enthusiastic.] You put things in it, turn it on, and it cooks them. Really fast. Then when it goes ding, you take your food out. Super convenient.

How fast is 'really fast'? Ten minutes? [That's about the fastest he's seen meals cooked.]

Five minutesish--oh--ten from frozen. Maybe less.

[There's a noticeable pause here. From frozen?]

That's impressive. [To say the least.]

That's super modern tech for you. I'm a terrible cook--back home? I'd starve without a microwave.

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