• Tavorie J

An Introduction of Sorts.

It was 2am. Or was it 4? I don’t know. My phone was ringing. It's terrible jingle piercing the dark silence. I picked it up off the side table, but didn’t answer. Instead I rolled over to my partner lying beside me.

“Here.” I placed it on the side of his head. “You deal with it.”

“Hm?” He groaned as he rolled over, dropping the phone onto the bed between us.

“I took the last call. Your turn.” I laid back down.

He sat up with a grunt. I watched him rub his eyes as he picked up the phone. “It’s a Sanctuary network call.”

I shrugged.

“Are you sure you want me talking to humans at this hour? I’m tired and hungry and-”

“Just answer it, Sylus.” I pulled the blanket up over my head.

His tone went from a low growl to airy and formal as he answered the call. “S & M Freelance Spawn Management. If you’re calling this line, you’re obviously in deep shit. S speaking, how may I assist you?”

It was so fake and insincere I had to stifle my laughter.

“Mhmm. Mhmm. A minor infestation, you say? And this is somehow a thing your internal management system can’t handle? I see. Well let me take a look.”

I felt the mattress lift a bit as his weight left it. He padded over to a nearby table barefoot and sat down in a dusty chair. I sat up to watch him work. His tentacles lifted a bit and draped over the back of the chair. He sifted through my bag until he found a small notebook. Opening it to the last blank page, he began writing. I cringed a bit knowing I’d have to have him translate it to English later.

“Stratica?” He reached back into the bag and pulled out a paper map. “We’re two weeks out and two jobs away from you. Unless this is urgent, you’re going to have to-” He stopped mid sentence. “Any price?” He turned to me with a raised brow. I pulled the tatter blankets up to my chin. “Give me a moment to speak with my partner.” He put the phone down on the table. “Well, I’m apparently speaking to an Administrator of Stratica and they’re insisting they have a very serious spawn infestation.”

“That they can’t handle?” I scoffed.

“Apparently not.”

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