Creation 7

[dodo_master]

[Well Cynric finished his job! Aren't you all so glad you helped him? He's a bit upset that he didn't get any money for it, or even any food at this point, but a job well done is a job well done, at least.

After school that day (of which he may have accidentally wandered away from), he can be seen sitting on his porch, squinting at a piece of

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[deaths_heritor]

[A shadow looms over him with a particularly grim expression on its face. Susan sure as hell remembers this kid standing around asking for 'enemies of the state' and while she'd ignored it at the time, she sure as hell isn't going to let it slide. Not after yesterday.]

My good Inspector. Do I see you dawdling on the porch when you might be working for the good of our motherland?

[Her voice is like death. Which isn't all that unusual, really.]

...crap.

[dodo_master]

[The little man looks up at you, blinking.]

Oh? Oh! yes, you see, I was, but I finished my quota. so now I'm trying to figure out what this means. [Indicates the scrap of paper] I wonder if it was delivered to the wrong house?

[deaths_heritor]

There is no excuse for idle hands, comrade. Do you believe our Glorious Leader would be proud to see you idling away the time reading? You know as well as I that any non-sanctioned material may be considered . . .

Subversive.

[dodo_master]

[Thinks about it. Shrugs.]

Perhaps! Especially since I don't know where this came from. [He tucks it back in his folder. He thinks for another moment.]

What should I be doing then? I finished my job! Should I ask for another?

[failboatboss]

T-That's not good!

[dodo_master]

What isn't good?

[failboatboss]

Missiles!

[dodo_master]

I don't know what that is. But I'm sure since it preceeds "attack" on this thing, that you're probably right about it.

[never_any_doubt]

Hm. May I take a look at zhat, young man?

[Spy is intrigued! He remembers how important papers eventually became in Westport, and he wants to be able to say he handled one here before the general population got all up in arms over it.]

[dodo_master]

Yes! But I'd like it back.

[Hands it to you. SO TRUSTING.] It's very hard to read though!

[never_any_doubt]

I have had to decipher worse.

[He examines it. Is that... blood on it? Hm. He wonders whose blood, exactly. Plenty of people were mangled last night.]

Eet looks fairly standard, really, though zhe war referred to is one zhat I've never studied. Perhaps code?

[Or do they just refer to everything differently in Russia because they can't use names spoken by evil American tongues?]

[dodo_master]

[Cynric shrugs.] I've been through a lot of wars, but I can't remember all their names!

[gaydrill]

[ So Klavier had somehow managed to avoid getting executed or hurt because of his failure, so the puzzled prosecutor is now walking around, trying to pretend he's investigating or something. But it was more like just walking around, as he felt quite ill with how the things had suddenly turned out and why he had been allowed to get off with nothing.

And now he hears you speaking of war and missiles! Distraction! ]

Hm? What is that?

[dodo_master]

[Besides being hungry and a bit tired, Cynric was fine as well! But this boy has lived though far, FAR worse than Soviet Mayfield could ever hope to throw at him.

He looked up as Klavier.] A bit of newspaper! Hard to read though.

[gaydrill]

... Where did you get it? [ He looks at it curiously, noting just how exactly worn-out it looks. ]

Can I take a look?

[dodo_master]

Ah, it was given to me for being a good comrade! Though I can't really understand why.