Protein Postcard
So this micro fic came about when @stars-bleed-hearts-shine shared a screenshot of an add she keeps getting on her dash.
And yes Artâimis always replaces what she takes out of her friendâs pantries.
âYou might want to check in with the post moogles a bit more often than usual.â
Belâs advice had confused Artâimis and when the only other information sheâd been able to get out of her foster daughter had been a giggling belly laugh she decided not to press the young dragoon. Instead she opted to enjoy tea and catch up on the small things she had missed while on the First. They skirted around heavier issues that did not seem fitting for the cool afternoon at a newly opened cafe in the firmament. Instead they kept to more amusing antics and stories, pixies attempting to prank the ever reserved Urianger, Belâs current position as Amymericâs secretary while she was on injury leave. Artâimis wondered at the thriving young woman and saw little hints of everyone that had a hand in raising Bel from the frightened child who had survived Ifrit to this confident young woman who would one day be more than qualified to take over the reigns of leadership from her elders. When the Miqoâte woman took her leave to return to work Artâimis had quite forgotten about moogle mail entirely.
She remembered a senight later while abusing Serellaâs kitchen. It took less aether and energy to get to the other paladinâs house from the Diadem than than it did to get back to her apartment off Pearl lane. Once she could see straight sheâd go shopping and replace what sheâd raided from the pantry. She had perhaps spent a little to long mining materials for the restoration project and not stopped to eat or rest for several hours. Food and a nap (and probably a lecture from Serella) and sheâd be just fine. There was a crack and a bang as the partially open kitchen window was forced open wider. Artâimis summoned scarlet energy to her hand and the only thing that kept her from casting the jolt of red magic were the frantic curses of âkupo!â She took a deep breath and focused on releasing the aether as she slowly exhaled. She turned her attention to the moogle as she shook out her hand.
âYou almost shot me! kupo!â
âAs occasionally happens when unannounced visitors break into houses.â Artâimis replied dryly.
The post moogle huffed, âwell maybe I wonât give you this tasty letter then!â
âTasty?â The small Auri woman arched an eyebrow.
âOh! Ummmmmmm,â the post moogle did an agitated barrel roll before fishing in their bag to produce a small reddish brown rectangle, âWell you were sent this, kupo! And I have no idea how it got damaged!â
Artâimis took the card and realized as her fingers closed that it was not paper
It was jerky.
She blinked and looked at the thing. On one side a message had been seared into the dried meat.
Art-
Isnât this neat?! We should get a drink!
-Uthen
Further inspection showed a ragged corner that was absolutely made by teeth. She blinked again and looked at the moogle who just bobbed in the air, a mannerism sheâd always assumed to be the equivalent of a shrug. âHe must have been drunk.â
âKupo!â The Paladin wasnât sure whether or not to take that as confirmation.
âKnock next time and you probably wonât get fried.â Artâimis sighed and dropped the strange postcard on the table next to her plate.
âPROBABLY?!â The moogle wailed and bolted out of the window, Artâimis shut and latched it behind the small thing. She sat down and tucked into her meal. She really couldnât judge how her friend chose to unwind, after all she was sitting in his sisterâs empty house eating a stolen meal.
