#shaah

Wading it up, she tossed the paper over her shoulder and started anew.

Okay, so this is my second attempt at writing you a letter. The first was a total disaster and all I did was focus on the writing process. Which doesn't really sound so bad until you realize I spent like, several sentences slinging backwards insults and I-

A frown marked her extraordinarily pale face as she tossed another sheet to the wind.

Letter #3! So, I thought I'd try to write you a letter. I could've typed one, or just, yanno, /talked/ to you, but I always see you pouring over those ancient smelling looking scrolls and thought you might like to read something from me?

She pulled back, studying her words through an intense squint. She held it up to the light, hoping it'd reveal some sort of divine judgement. When she received no word of whether it was terrible or at the very least, decent, Charlie shrugged and decided to continue.

So, I don't really do this often. It's probably really obvious-

She paused, letting out a snort.

-but I really wanted to try.

Another pause.

I-

Mouth open, the pen hovered over the paper, waiting for Charlie to continue on. But nothing came. Every time a thought came to the forefront of her mind, as soon as she'd grab the first word, it'd retreat back into nothingness and she'd be stuck again. Dropping the pen, she shoved away from the desk. Groaning, she placed an arm over weary eyes.

Why was this so hard? Normal people write letters. Normal people do it every day in less advanced districts. People write as a living, even. Greeting cards, poetry, fanfic... She's more than acquainted with all writing forms and yet... A frustrated sigh left her lips, leaving behind a childish raspberry in its wake. "Ugh, okay. Okay. I can do this. I'm Charlie, Queen of Awesome! Lady of Love! Writer of letters and swooner of Shaah~ I got this."

But as she inched closer to the desk, any resolve she had crumbled.

"C'mon, girl. C'mooonnnnn. Normal people can do this. And you're normal, right?"

It was a decidedly stupid question, because of course she wasn't normal. A normal person didn't drop out of school. A normal person had a family with two parents, two point five kids, and a familiar. A normal person had a job that didn't consume their lives. A normal person wasn't a huge dork and could write a fucking letter.

She laid her head on the desk in defeat, closing her eyes.Tears threatened to disturb her fine lashes and mar all of her hard work, but they stayed at the precipice of will-I-or-won't-I.

"I'm not normal," she whined.

"No kidding."

Bright eyes snapped open to reveal a heavy man with wild hair standing just off to the right. Her lips opened to a strangled noise similar to a dying cat as she ushered him over with a sad wave. "Hey, Ji."

Uncrossing his arms, the man closed in on the cubicle, grabbing an adjacent chair. Sitting down with a slight grunt, he placed a hand on her back. "Hey Charles. You doin' okay?"

She nodded halfheartedly, still sliding along the paper. If she had written anymore than a paragraph, the ink would have left a temporary tattoo the length of her face. Thankfully, her poor writing skills had saved her from that.

"Yeah?" He leaned closer, brushing a strand of hair from brow. "For being okay, you sure look like shit."

A small grin broke out over her face as she sat up. "Hey! I'll have you know I spent hours to look like shit. Literal hours. Shit doesn't come easy, you know."

"Oh, I know." Mahouji reached out, plucking the crumpled letter from her face. She turned a complimentary shade of red as he set it aside, not bothering to give it a glance. She was thankful for that. "So really. What's up?"

Charlie reclined deeper into her chair, rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands to push the blossoming embarrassment from becoming even more apparent. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Doesn't really answer my question, but-"

He was met with the duet of a pointed tongue and middle finger.

"Alright, alright." He pushed the thick rimmed glasses back up his nose and leaned forward. "I forgot the 1035 and came back to grab my drive to work on it later. You know, at home."

"How could you forget the 1035!?" Charlie squealed as she knocked knees with her friend. "No, seriously, how could you? We've been working on it forever and the final report is due this week! Mahouji, I swear to the fricken Lightweaver that-"

"Pfft." His hand waved dismissively. "Look, I've been busy."

She shoved him gently. "Like hell you have."

"Okay," he shrugged, grin sneaking up on his round face. "You got me. I haven't been busy, busy. But I have been busy."

Charlie eyed him suspiciously. "Uh-huh."

"Yes-huh. I have a diplomacy thing coming up. Seriously, the whole she-bang. I'll be gone for like, a month. Maybe more, maybe less. Dunno yet."

"A month!?" she wailed. "Why haven't I heard anything about it? You're supposed to tell me things!"

He laughed heartily. "I am telling you things."

"Now," she emphasized.

"Yes, now. I'm not supposed to tell anyone not involved in the project at all. But here I am, putting my job in jeopardy, all for you."

"...And?"

He raised an eyebrow. "And what?"

"And why is that stopping you from working on the 1035?"

A light blush dusted his nose as he looked literally anywhere that wasn't Charlie's prying eyes. He coughed, hands running over his thighs. "Well, you know... I'm going to be gone for a while and Eli-"

"Oh my gods."

"He's-"

Charlie raised both of her hands, halting any further explanation. "Don't need anymore. Don't wanna hear anymore. I'm golden. Got it. You can totally stop now."

The only reply was a careful, "Mn-hm."

They sat in silence for the next minute. If it were anyone else, it'd be uncomfortable for Charlie - but she's known Mahouji for years. The silence between them had never edged into palpable and instead served as a reminder that he was in her corner, and would be until she felt the need to say something. And she did.

"So," she began. "I'm not normal."

Her hands twisted in her lap, as she swiveled left to right. Mahouji said nothing as she continued.

"Like, I can't even write a letter. Anyone can write a letter. Even you. Shit, you've probably written dozens to your aunt. And I can't even finish a single one to Shaah, and-"

The man cocked his head. "Is that what this is about?"

"What do you mean?"

He glared. "What do you mean, 'what do you mean'? Have you been sulking in here, agonizing over Shaah?"

Charlie nodded slowly, as if the affirmation would clear everything up. "Yeah, but look."

She thrust the hastily scribbled letter in his face. "Seriously, look at this. I'm a failure."

Mahouji was silent as he skimmed the letter, before looking over the top. "Seriously?"

"An abnormal failure," she whined, throwing her hands up in defeat.

He raised a hand, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No, I mean.... Charles, it's not the end of the world. It's not even that bad of a letter. It's very... you."

An even more desperate, pathetic sound echoed through the empty office.

"No it's just..." He sighed, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on Charlie's arm. "Listen. It's not easy to put how you feel into words. I'm terrible at it. Eli's worse. It's a fucking nightmare, really. Two emotionally constipated people trying to make words is a recipe for disaster. But here you are; a good three hours after close, trying to write a love letter because you think she likes reading?"

Charlie grinned, sheepishly.

"It's that old saying. Effort means more than the gift. Or whatever. A for effort. Just be you, Charlie. She'll love whatever you write, even if you wind up drawing stick figures at the bottom. Now..." He stood, stretching before heading to the door. "I gotta get back or I swear, it'll be the Fourth Age. See you tomorrow?"

Clutching the paper in her hands, she smiles slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, see you tomorrow."

- x -

Hi Shaah.

I spent so long trying to write you something elegant that whenever I'd get halfway done with a page, I'd throw it away because it was awful. Literal garbage. I wanted to write you a letter to rival all of the scrolls you read. I wanted to give you something amazing and marvelous, filled with adventure and intrigue and purple prose. I wanted to impress you with my kick ass writing skills so you'd think I'm cool, and then I realized.... I don't have any writing skills. :(

I actually wound up trashing enough paper to make the Gladekeeper cry before Mahouji found me slumped over my desk. I was a really pathetic sight. Think about a weekend when Moondor gets cancelled after I'm already decked out? It was like that - only worse, because this was supposed to be a present to you. So Ji comes in and sits down and gives me some sage life advice. He's pretty good at it. Of course, he's no sexy shadow goddess, but hey. He tries.

What I learned in boating school is from him though, was that... I'm not a writer. I shouldn't really ever try writing letters again. And that's okay. Because you know what I'm good at? Like, everything else! And you know what everything else includes? Taking you out on dates and totally swooning you with my awesome other skills (which are literally everything else. I swear).

So basically, there's a carnival this weekend. Near the border because space, pretty much. You should go with me so I can win you stuff. No one really needs a giant stuffed dog, but I think it'd improve your place. Give it some character, you know?

Also I love you.

And you're cute.

Call me. ;)

- Peace,