Ad Interim OPEN

Fritz looked at the tiny machinery with a glitter in his eyes. Yes, he thought, this will work great. This thing was so tiny that it couldn't even fit on the inside of your cheek. (His mother always had to laugh when she said this. She always thought that his father's face was too large for his mouth. Then she saw him putting on a pair of sunglasses and said that he looked like an orange.) And yet Fritz knew, instinctively, that this would work exactly as he wanted it too. It could be used to send signals. If you thought - "Well, look at that. The sun is shining!" - then you could transmit that thought through tiny flashes of light on the mirror, and your companion on the other side of the room would know instantly and discreetely. But it could be used for more things too: You could easily distract a guard with it. Or a dog with its mouth open and its tongue lolling out. So this tiny thing could get you into so many places - and nobody would ever know! Fritz was not a fan of these possibilities; he preferred his inventions to be used for good. But, alas, the world was not black and white - he had known this for a while. Cradling the tiny, almost egg-shaped machine, he went outside to test it in the sunlight that shone over the busy street. He opened up the mechanism, fiddled with it a bit, and - voila, little flashes of directed light emanated from his hand, only to be seen by the person who stood in just the right spot. He loved these kinds of spy-gadgets.

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darling, dearest

Fritz Farrington was a man Faolan had met once when he was younger. His mother needed a new mirror with all sorts of special things only Fritz could do, or so his mother had said. It was something he had shrugged off and forgot about in the years after and now he stood on the corner of the street by his shop once again. The man wasn't inside but instead he could find him outside. Something Faolan thought was kind of odd. Flashes of light grabbed his attention from the corner of his eye and with a frown he turned his head towards the man he was looking for. "Great," Faolan groaned with a sigh. "Just follow the flashing lights to the man that must've hit his head too hard. Multiple times." The younger man shoved his hands back into the pockets of his long coat and slowly made his way to the man that sort of freaked him out, even though he couldn't deny that he wasn't good looking for his age.

dead

MONTY