(no subject)

[swords-love-me.livejournal.com]

Date: July 6 2000, morning
Status: Semi-Private (War, Uriel, at least) - Completed
Setting: War’s Room, then Front Desk
Summary: War, worried about her nukes, tells Uriel about the window.


War let out a battle-cry in frustration, and sat down on the bed. Somewhere in the world, a scouting light aircraft that wasn’t designed for it shot forward, breaking the sound barrier, and tore itself apart in a ball of flame. She sighed. There just wasn’t space in her room anymore for all of the pretties. She decided that maybe it was time to put the nukes, at least, in those metal cupboards down in that basement room.

She was about to gather them up into her duffel bags, pulling them from under the bed and out of the wardrobe, when she stopped, and thought: how was it she’d found that room in the first place? There was a broken window up by the ceiling in there now, and the nukes weren’t going to be too happy if the room got flooded next time it rained. Grimacing lightly, she tossed the warheads onto the bed, and headed down stairs to the lobby.

Approaching the front desk, she leant on the counter and looked at the woman sitting behind it. She didn’t recognise her, but figured she must be working for the Manor.

“Morning, lady,” she greeted her. War tended to be on the abrupt side of polite. “I’ve come to report a breakage. One of the basement windows is smashed out, and it needs fixing. Can you ask someone to sort it out?”