Anything that's not a drag, please…
There was something foreboding about Blue Larimar's gaze, the secretary's eyes beaming some imperceptible ray of contempt from over a rigidly held clipboard. A gaze that was like a question, only the question was rhetorical, and mostly meant as an insult. It hurt, somewhat. That was a problem with those of Larimar's ilk - so well put-together, so organized, so matter-of-fact that their unspoken aspersions may as well have been completely true.
"Apatite,"
Apa cringed, hair - a long braided tail of blue - noticeably swaying as their upper body recoiled.
"Are you ready to make yourself useful?"
By now it had been… over a hundred years since they had been plucked from the Shore? Apa had been primarily involved in odd-jobs; gathering, mostly, whether it be parts of fragmented compatriots, or some plant to harvest for resin. The assignment has always been largely an afterthought, however, some way to keep them occupied instead of loafing about; Apa had always come up with precious little, in comparison to the real gatherers.
And now, all these years later, that one true calling, as dictated by a stuck-up secretary.
That had been the dream, hadn't it? All those years of doing random something-or-anothers passed, so that now Apa could be set upon the task that they would be bound to for the foreseeable future - which was either forever or until the Lunarians finally plucked them away.
"Yes, Lari, definitely ready." said Apa, definitively not ready.
Apatite followed Larimar, blade in tow, across the School, almost entirely empty at this time of day save for a few essential regulars; Seraphinite the doctor, Blue Corundum the heavy-hitter, and, of course, Larimar, the secretary -ever eager to chastise a lazy straggler.
They made their way past the lines of sloping pillars that overlooked the serene pool, out into the green, made vibrant by the shimmering sun. The open horizon of possibility suddenly became a closing door, curtains cast over a good chunk of future prospects. We're not… really discounting the possibility of an indoor job, right…?
"Pick up the pace, Apatite. We currently have Painite doing a patrol shift alone, which could be very problematic."
P-patrol?
A figure loomed from amongst the horizon.
