Home
He'd gone down to the orphanage to help out between missions. They would have a few days in Highmark before their fifth level battle royale, and the more mundane testing was already over. For the most part, when he visited the orphans he liked to help out in the kitchens -- it wasn't too intrusive to the day-to-day routine that the matrons said was so important, and it let him see each of their little, smiling faces.
Or grumpy faces, or bored faces, and increasingly their very, very saddest ones. On the first day that he'd been allowed to work in the kitchens, he'd happened to have a stash of candy on hand from visiting Ms. Rosamund's grandchildren, and he'd seen a sad little boy. Not knowing what else to do, he'd slipped the child a bit of butterscotch, and watched his face transform into a smile. The other kids had quickly caught on, and now their over-exaggerated anguish was a private ritual between him and them, kept up as long as little faces could manage, until sugar changed hands and they went giggling on their way. A minor ritual, but one that filled him with magic.
Or grumpy faces, or bored faces, and increasingly their very, very saddest ones. On the first day that he'd been allowed to work in the kitchens, he'd happened to have a stash of candy on hand from visiting Ms. Rosamund's grandchildren, and he'd seen a sad little boy. Not knowing what else to do, he'd slipped the child a bit of butterscotch, and watched his face transform into a smile. The other kids had quickly caught on, and now their over-exaggerated anguish was a private ritual between him and them, kept up as long as little faces could manage, until sugar changed hands and they went giggling on their way. A minor ritual, but one that filled him with magic.
Roscoe is such a softy! Great story!