In Desperate Need of an Asprin

[Ender/Demigod Arc]

If anyone had really looked, they would have noticed that Cinder was shaking.

The book in her hands was splattered with droplets of water that had, at some previous time, spilled from her eyes, and her form – huddled squarely in her usual place at the end of the bar – was hunched over in a way that very much did not suggest she was up for conversation. She was determinately scribbling away, ink spots already blooming in the places her hand had slipped from moving.

If her face hadn’t been turned quite deliberately towards the dark wall to her right, you might have caught a glimpse of her eyes; one a deep and biting purple, the other a pale and waspish gold. Every now and then she would glance up from the journal with a wild, frantic air and almost seem to rise, but every new attempt sparked a concentrated glare and a redoubled effort to continue to write.

The pages were slowly filling, but they did not seem to be filling fast enough for Cinder; with a soft groan and some frenzied rubbing of her head she called for the bartender. “I’ll take something,” she said, knowing full well that the people here tended to go overboard when not given a specific drink to mix, “something strong.”

If ever she needed something to take the edge off, it was now.

She did not look up when someone new plopped themselves down at the seat next to her – she did not want to risk it. She knew she looked like hell; not exactly the ‘air of professionalism’ she usually tried for. Instead she tilted up the pages of her book to shield the words and continued to write, intending to ignore whoever it was for long enough that they would just go away. She had enough problems right now without dealing with some overly nosey server inhabitant.

Bio smirked at the young woman he sat next to scribbling in her book, "I have something similar," he said pulling out a thick worn leather book form his pocket, "I started writing as much as possible incase I lost my memory again." He flipped through the pages a bit showing briefly scrawling notes, diagrams of spells, potion brews and entries for various days. Bio placed the book on he counter and stared at it for a brief second before turning back to his bar mate, smiling sweetly he said, "My name's Bio by the way, I'm new around here."

Cinder closed her eyes as the someone beside her started talking, taking three deep breaths to pull herself together.

One.

There was a nagging voice inside her head telling her to report to Ridgedog for orders.

Two.

In the back of her mind a dragon’s voice rumbled, causing a throbbing sensation behind her eyes.

Three.

After a pause, she looked up with a determinately calm smile fixed on her face. “Nice to meet ya, Bio. The name’s Cinder, Minecraftia’s resident journalist and news reporter.” She glanced at his notebook, full of information and facts she didn’t understand. “You write to, then? It is a good way to remember things. I didn’t lose my memory, but I know lots of folks who did and said the writing was the only thing that kept them from forgetting themselves entirely. Did you lose yours in the Reset, or something else?”

He’d said he was new, but she didn’t know how new he meant – she’d been distracted enough at that horrible event that she hadn’t seen everyone who was there.