Angel-of-the-Lore

Dearest and Dorkiest Kane, I was going through some old things from the move recently, and reopened a box that went eerily untouched from my first dorm to this house. Before you ask, no, I am not haunted now, nor do I plan to be. No creepy dolls or unexplained drawings among the hoard of old crafting supplies and stationery. I did, however, come across my old set of dice thanks to some meddling from Sal. He really likes your d4, by the way. You may have to trade me another of your set to keep him from hoarding that one in case I need to roll it. Miraculously, the dice bags we made didn’t disintegrate after 13 years, and the monogram is somehow still legible. It made me think about how much fun we had in the adventuring club in high school – and how my gaming has been pretty single-player exclusive since college. So I started working on something, and I was wondering if you might like to visit and be a part of it? Well, not you, per se, but I did come across this invitation for a

As night wore on, the purple tones of the galaxy projected on the ceiling muddled into reds and blues like a faulty pair of 3-D glasses. Will squinted at his laptop screen, dimmed and reddened by the nightlight setting, and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses for the third time in as many minutes. Four hours of research and playlist building, and a single sentence blurred back at him from the darkmode word processor before him. It echoed in his head even as he read it, having memorized the text after typing and deleting around it for so long. Magidos Town, a small community split down the center by a waterfall, is opening its first coffeeshop. Will let out a sigh that turned into a groan halfway through, putting his laptop to sleep and sliding it onto the bedside table with his glasses. Sal and Brill were sleeping soundly in their pillow fort across the room, soft snores emanating from the blanket curtain, and a fond smile brightened the Sentret’s tired expression.

The warm tones of twilight filtering through the faux-stained glass of the window decals painted Sal in a more innocent prism of dappled evening light than his current actions would endorse. The brave little Togepi was spelunking in one of the large cardboard boxes remaining from a certain doctor’s moving process, delving into odds, ends, and mementos alike as he looked for something fun to play with while Will was busy making dinner. And if the scent of saag aloo enticed him to chew on what looked like the rubber tread from some RC car, no one needed to know. Once he got bored with teething, Sal climbed down from the throne of doom box detritus and deeper into the once-organized jumble of disassembled sentimental value. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was looking for, but it wasn’t the small collection of cutely shaped erasers and beads – though the rattling rain stick sound the case made was quite nice. Setting aside the Sal-sized container with a friendly pat for the