To All Heroes Who Read Their Files

[acceptedoblivion]

[He isn't really the type of person who writes this kind of stuff, especially back when he had to stay in the shadows whenever he did try to help someone. But just this once (now that he's cooled off), he'll make an exception.]

I might be new to this place and be a bit more in the dark than the rest of you, but hear me out. I don't know what worlds you came from or what you've seen. Don't care to, either. But that won't stop others trying to use your pasts (and possible futures) against us. I'm referring to Palitutu, who had our files apparently before any of us ever arrived. At least she did for me and the rest of us who showed up recently.

I don't know how many of you withdrew, and I won't ask. How we handle our pasts is up to us. But I will say this: The future is never set in stone. Nor should we let anything in the past we don't remember define us. Don't give up or break just because someone decided to be a scarily-accurate creep. At least that's what I think.

Oh, and one more thing: How do you put out a grease fire? One of my housemates may have tried putting water on one.

- Ira

Comments

/pats!

[makingfriends]

I'm fine!

[he's suffered worse falls anyway so it's not like that would've killed him

He tosses a couple of those towels on the counter, intending to wipe up there, too, only to do a double-take.]

Agh, the stove's soaked-- [that's your fault, Ven, remember] We'll have to wait for it to cool, too.

[Some careful ice magic is still sounding really good right about now. Still, at the moment he'll focus on old-fashioned methods of clean-up so the dry baking soda on the floor can be swept up.]

Re: /pats!

[acceptedoblivion]

And I wonder whose fault that was.

[Snark snark- hm, maybe he should have grabbed the mop while he was at it. Some of the baking soda was starting to turn into a paste where it met some of the water that made it to the floor. Slowly he starts to sweep it up, trying to make sure that more paste doesn't get made as he started sweeping it into the dustpan.]

[makingfriends]

[He might huff at you at this point if he weren't busy sopping up so much water -- and aw man that paste is leaving unsightly streaks on the floor this is just great. But Ira seems to have that part, so Ven turns back to the counter and starts poking at the frying pan's handle. It's warm, but not unbearable, so he gives it a careful shake, trying to smother the last of the smoldering embers.

It's a really good thing these houses aren't advanced enough to have smoke detectors because theirs would be going off like crazy. And would have scared the daylights out of him because what is simple household technology even]

I think we've got it! They can't be too mad, right?

[No permanent damage, aside from the smoke stains on the wall behind the stove. And the ceiling above it. But he can buy a new pan!!]

[acceptedoblivion]

[If Ven huffed at him or now, he doesn't mind -- he's far more concerned about getting the baking soda off the floor and into the garbage. He glances over at Ven while sweeping some of it into the powder to see what the progress was on his end.]

We can hope.

[Never mind that he had a low stock of hopes to begin with, but details! ...Maybe he should find a job to help pay for that new pan, too.]