Room 318, Sunday Morning
Peter woke up in the morning to the sound of IM warnings blaring loudly from his desk. Being that he'd only gotten in at like, two AM last night, he was not, to put it mildly, pleased. He stumbled out of bed, glaring at the holographic display informing him he had five messages waiting - who the hell wanted to contact him at eight in the morning on a Sunday? What the hell couldn't wait?
He pressed open; Valentine's voice nearly knocked him over a second later.
"Peter," she snapped. "Peter, hundreds of people have already died! More are dying! Shestov is already moving through Turkey and Germany and who knows where else and you-- and you look like you want to sleep in!"
Peter ran a hand through his hair, and eyed her. Seriously? This was what she was waking him up for? "Val--"
"And I did it," she whispered, "The whole thing is my fault. I did it."
"I told you," he said, flopping down in his chair. Of course he'd have to deal with this. "This is Shestov's war, not ours. The beast was already in him, we just nudged him out of his lair. And not just him-- thousands of troops have sided with him, even at IF headquarters."
"THERE'S FIGHTING AT IF HEADQUARTERS?!" Valentine shrieked. Over-dramatically, if you asked him. "That's probably where Ender is!"
"Hey, easy!" Peter called back. "Don't tempt me to kill Demosthenes off, little sister. You don't have to worry about your precious Ender - the Locke essay I've published will secure his place in the history books."
"I want Ender alive, Peter," Valentine hissed at him. "Not in the history books. The only person who cares about fame or power is you. And not Ender's either, but your own."
Peter groaned. "Am I that transparent?" he asked. "I guess I need to work on my 'worried about Ender' face." At least out here in Fandom, he might actually get a chance to do so, what with Old and Grumpy downstairs in 204. "In the mean time, Valentine, know this. Ender is history. I'm making history." He leaned forward. "All this war needs is another day, maybe two. I'm already reliably informed Shestov is about to make a big mistake. Then he'll hang, we'll restore world peace, and your little baby Ender will be just fine, don't you worry."
Valentine made a strangled noise on the other end of the line. "I really, really hate you," she said, viciously. "You better stop this as quickly as you can, or I swear--"
"Demosthenes is nothing without Locke," Peter said, waving a hand. She couldn't manage this without him. "Goodbye, sis. Enjoy our newfound notoriety."
He turned the connection off, then sat back again. And pulled a face. Ender ender ender ender. Really, you'd think Valentine got hit on the head sometime. But whatever, it didn't matter: things were still running completely to plan--
He eyed his inbox and watched with satisfaction as one of his informants dumped another mail into it. Exactly to plan. Oh, this was going to be fun.
[[ post is open, door is now half-open, Valentine bits NFB as always. parts adapted from the Ender's Game: The League War comic. ]]
He pressed open; Valentine's voice nearly knocked him over a second later.
"Peter," she snapped. "Peter, hundreds of people have already died! More are dying! Shestov is already moving through Turkey and Germany and who knows where else and you-- and you look like you want to sleep in!"
Peter ran a hand through his hair, and eyed her. Seriously? This was what she was waking him up for? "Val--"
"And I did it," she whispered, "The whole thing is my fault. I did it."
"I told you," he said, flopping down in his chair. Of course he'd have to deal with this. "This is Shestov's war, not ours. The beast was already in him, we just nudged him out of his lair. And not just him-- thousands of troops have sided with him, even at IF headquarters."
"THERE'S FIGHTING AT IF HEADQUARTERS?!" Valentine shrieked. Over-dramatically, if you asked him. "That's probably where Ender is!"
"Hey, easy!" Peter called back. "Don't tempt me to kill Demosthenes off, little sister. You don't have to worry about your precious Ender - the Locke essay I've published will secure his place in the history books."
"I want Ender alive, Peter," Valentine hissed at him. "Not in the history books. The only person who cares about fame or power is you. And not Ender's either, but your own."
Peter groaned. "Am I that transparent?" he asked. "I guess I need to work on my 'worried about Ender' face." At least out here in Fandom, he might actually get a chance to do so, what with Old and Grumpy downstairs in 204. "In the mean time, Valentine, know this. Ender is history. I'm making history." He leaned forward. "All this war needs is another day, maybe two. I'm already reliably informed Shestov is about to make a big mistake. Then he'll hang, we'll restore world peace, and your little baby Ender will be just fine, don't you worry."
Valentine made a strangled noise on the other end of the line. "I really, really hate you," she said, viciously. "You better stop this as quickly as you can, or I swear--"
"Demosthenes is nothing without Locke," Peter said, waving a hand. She couldn't manage this without him. "Goodbye, sis. Enjoy our newfound notoriety."
He turned the connection off, then sat back again. And pulled a face. Ender ender ender ender. Really, you'd think Valentine got hit on the head sometime. But whatever, it didn't matter: things were still running completely to plan--
He eyed his inbox and watched with satisfaction as one of his informants dumped another mail into it. Exactly to plan. Oh, this was going to be fun.
[[ post is open, door is now half-open, Valentine bits NFB as always. parts adapted from the Ender's Game: The League War comic. ]]