Recette could barely contain her excitement as she sidled into Muyomi's seat, looking closely. She'd never used a computer this nice looking before, so she approached the mouse gently, as if it were alive. After wiggling the cursor, she stopped, leaning back as she tried to think. "H-how do you get it to record?"
---
Under the barely night, the grimier streets of Frisko seemed to sheen in the advent of a fresh rain. Business shoes covering soaked socks under stained sleeves shambled down the uneven pavement, puddles being scattered uncaringly by the slumped man in the maroon suit. Passing cars occasionally went by, each one threatening to further drench the man though the rain had already relented. Yet he marched on robotically, not even flinching as they scattered street water.
Finally, feet turned up a metal staircase in the side of a building, climbing to the second level of a cheap apartment complex. The man's hand moved to the door handle, pushing through the broken lock. Clicking on a light, the light bulb seemed to be the only thing in the run down apartment not rifled through. Books were scattered, furniture upended, cushions split. The man ran a hand over his scruff face and his thinning brown hair, before letting out a mild sigh, closing the door the best he could.
Shedding his slightly oversized suit, he toweled himself off before throwing his things into a dented dryer, changing into a t-shirt and boxers before flopping on the couch once he rebuilt it. Looking at the mess, he stood with a grunt, before going to work. The small living room, the kitchen, and the one room, cramped with two beds, one of which that had been empty for over a week now. One agonizing week...
---
Once the apartment had become livable, the man crouched down by the fridge, hand swiveling between junky snack food, less junky snack food, and beer. Grabbing a bottle, he set it aside before reaching to the bottom, removing an insulated panel, then another. Pushing aside the cash filled boot, he pulled out a laptop, the screen half hanging on by half of a hinge and the wiring. A short while later, he was back on the couch, laptop charged and powering on, beer half gone into his gullet. Then, he found it: an email with a simple word as the subject amongst spam and threats: "Dad".
A click later, and he was downloading a relatively small video file. Despite the file size it took half an hour of unbearable anticipation to finally finish downloading on the staggered, stolen internet connection. He wasted no time in opening it.
His daughter's red eyes stared back at him as another girl's hand pulled away.
"It's recording now?" she asked. A voice answered her from off screen.
She took a breath, before she began to fiddle with her pockets. The man didn't seem to mind, a hand covering his mouth, quelling a bout of unmanly squeaking. Finally, she pulled out a card, grinning from ear to ear. "I did it!" She blurred in his vision, the man overcome, unable to stop as pure pride and elation poured down his face.
---
Recette let out another satisfied giggle as she placed down her Hunter ID. She awkwardly spoke into the camera. "I'm not sure how else to put it really. It was...well, I heard it was supposed to be tough. And it really was. There are some crazy weird and cool and strong people in the world." She giggled again, "And I'm with some of them! I think they're going to be coming back home with me!" Leaning back, she paused, before saying, "I won't be home for...oh, I think we can fly now! That'd be quicker! I'll get back as soon as I can, there's just some things I need to take care of. And once I do get back we can get to work, alright?" Recette took a breath, before smiling again, raising two fingers in a V for victory. Letting it hang for a moment, she turned to Muyomi, asking, "How do you stop it again?"
