Room 223 - Saturday Morning

[cameronmitchell]

Having returned from his morning run, Cameron grabbed a quick shower before he settled down on the couch with a couple of books and something to eat. There were no invasion of the weetiny kind or the other kind so he was free to get some serious studying done.

((For norglomofnit, marsheadtilt and kawalsky as he'll be running out of the room right after that happens. But if you

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[norglomofnit]

Yes, the Post Office was still open, but when an extremely official letter pops out of the Sorting Engine accompanied by a distinctly military fanfare, it's probably a good idea not to leave it until Monday.

Which would be why Moist left Gladys in charge and made his his way up into the dorms, looking for room 223. It was surprisingly easy to find. He knocked firmly on the door and added a, "Special delivery for a Mr C Mitchell," just for good measure.

[cameronmitchell]

Cameron jumped at the knock, managing to knock most of the books off the couch. He couldn't remember ever getting a special delivery. Quickly getting up, he went to open door.

"Morning, sir," he greeted. "Uh, I'm Cameron Mitchell."

[norglomofnit]

"Moist von Lipwig, Fandom Postmaster," he said, amused at being called sir. "Well, Mr Mitchell," Moist held out the letter, "someone was in a hurry to get this to you, so I thought I'd bring it by personally. I didn't think it could wait."

[cameronmitchell]

Cameron was about to answer, but as he glanced at the envelope, he couldn't help but notice the Air Force Academy seal. The only noise escaping his mouth was something close to "Ynghz" as he couldn't quite bring himself to take the letter.

[norglomofnit]

Ynghz. Moist recognised the signs of someone in the advanced stages of 'I can't look'. Glancing down at the letter, then up at Cameron, he settled his features and voice into Extremely Reassuring. "I'm sure that whatever it is, it's not bad news. It's hard to imagine anyone would need to get bad news to you with such urgency." Unless it was really bad news, but it was probably best not to go there.

[cameronmitchell]

All in favour of being reassured, Cameron luckily didn't let himself get into the really bad news theory. "I hope you're right, sir," he said, managing to make himself let go of the doorknob to reach for the letter.

Part of him was tempted to just tear it open and get it over with. The other part didn't want to know and was likely to go hide somewhere in case it was bad news. Right now, indecision was winning.

[norglomofnit]

"I usually am." Moist pressed the letter into Cameron's hands, but hesitated, burning curiosity about what could possibly trigger such an interesting reaction keeping him in place. "Is it something you were expecting?"

[cameronmitchell]

Cameron nodded and drew in a breath now that he was actually holding the letter that was going to decide his entire future in his hands. Not that he was freaking out about it or anything.

"Yeah, I applied to the Air Force Academy. This should be the letter either confirming that I got in or telling me to try again." Nope, not freaking out at all.

[norglomofnit]

That explained a lot. "I highly doubt they'd have sent a special delivery to tell you to try again," he said, falling back on logic in the face of what he was fairly certain was internal flailing. "But there is one way to know for sure." Moist still wasn't leaving - it was ingrained habit to learn the little details of people's lives. Or maybe he was just nosy.

[cameronmitchell]

"Open it?" Cameron asked, managing a grin. "Yeah, I know. I've just got to call someone first."

[norglomofnit]

"Excellent." Satisfied that it was going to get opened, because he'd had his doubts, Moist nodded at Cameron. "Then I'll wish you the best of luck and return to the Post Office." He didn't think Gladys would hire people in his absence, but better to head back and make sure. "If you're down that way, let me know how it turns out?"

[cameronmitchell]

Cameron smiled and nodded. "Will do. If it's bad, you'll probably hear about it on the radio. Thank you, sir."

[norglomofnit]

"Just doing my job." Moist turned away, chuckling to himself over the tendency of people on this island to call him sir, and headed back to the Post Office.

[cameronmitchell]

((Continued here.