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The guest room at Lina’s house barely looks like a guest room anymore, with the sheets changed, the belongings of its two new inhabitants strewn about. Even the curtains have been changed, from Granny’s old beige embroidered curtains to a brighter set of yellow and green stripes. Makes the whole place feel really homey. They haven’t ever talked about whether Miss Stryfe and Miss Thompson are gonna be staying here forever, or if this is just a longer-than-usual temporary stay, but either way, the room smells nice, and it feels comfortable, having girls a little closer to her age just a walk down the hallway away… so Lina likes it.
They do work pretty long hours, so the afternoons are often spent as Lina is used to them, with only Granny and Eriks in the house. Eriks spends long hours at the piano these days, or out working in the garden. He’s subdued like he was back when Lina first found him all those years ago, and his hair’s gone completely black. That’s fine, but it does leave Lina with very little to do other than find and harass her grandmother… and well, that, too, gets kind of old.
That is to say, Lina’s not trying to snoop. What she really means to do is sneak into Miss Stryfe and Miss Thompson’s room and enjoy the way the sunlight filters through the curtains, brighter and prettier. But stepping inside, her attention falls on the desk by the door, where the two reporters keep a stack of work folders, a stack of paper, and… a typewriter.
It’s Miss Stryfe’s typewriter, specifically. Golden brown and a little busted with age, but ultimately in good shape. Lina approaches it, skims her fingers over the keys. Not that she’s never touched one before, but she’s never had one in her house. Only in school does she get much of a chance to mess with these, and she only uses them for assignments. Not that she has a ton of people to write letters to now that Eriks is home, but what Lina does write, she writes by hand.
So. It’s a little fun. The way the keys click when Lina presses down on them is satisfying. She finds that the space bar is the most fun to tap, again and again and again, and when the bar gets all the way to the right, she slides it cleanly back over, the way she does in class. Miss Stryfe is an interesting lady, serious yet fun, friendly if occasionally awkward—and Lina likes her. Well, respects her. She has a bombastic temper and doesn’t let men disrespect her, which Lina likes too. She’d like to know more about Miss Stryfe… and it’s kind of fun to sit here tapping away at the keys, imagining that it’s Miss Stryfe here instead, working on whatever it is she types up using this old thing.
That is, until the space bar comes flying clean off. Lina barely manages to suppress a yelp, both hands clapping over her mouth—but before she can do any more than scoop up the bar off the carpet, she hears footsteps approaching the door, then the handle turning.
Expecting Eriks or Granny, Lina flips around, face pink. She’s hoping it’ll be Eriks, who will quietly help her fix the typewriter without saying a word. Instead, standing in the doorway is Miss Meryl Stryfe herself, dressed in a pretty white blouse and a long white pencil skirt, and—oh no. Lina blanches. Meryl Stryfe blinks, like she hadn’t expected to find anybody in her room.
“Y—” begins Stryfe.
“I’m sorry!” Lina squeaks. “I didn’t—I mean, I wasn’t—I don’t—”
“It’s fine,” Stryfe says, sounding a little alarmed. “What are you panicking over? Did you need something?” Her mauve eyes slide from Lina to the typewriter behind her, then the hands she has clasped at her back. After a beat, she tilts her head to the side, and smiles. “Oh. Did the space key come off again? It’s so temperamental. Let me see?”
With Stryfe’s acknowledgement, Lina hands over the offending key and watches the woman pass her. Miss Stryfe is short, and in fact, a couple inches shorter than Lina, which is weird to see from an adult. Though Lina’s also hit a growth sport in recent years.
“It comes off all the time,” Stryfe explains. “I just pop it back on… There we go.” She smiles slightly, standing back with her hands on her hips. “Were you worried I’d be mad? I don’t mind you taking a look at it. Though there are definitely newer and cooler typewriters you could mess with, if you’re that interested.”
“Um,” Lina starts, then coughs. “Well, it wasn’t really the typewriter that I…”
Stryfe gives her a curious look, as if waiting for elaboration, but Lina has nothing else to add. She just clears her throat, then dries her hands off on her lap.
“What are you doing back? Are you done with work already?”
Stryfe shakes her head. “I forgot something, so I figured I’d swing by for it and then pick us up some lunch… Sorry that I disturbed you, though. Did you need something from our room, if you didn’t come for the typewriter?”
It’s honestly just surprising that she’s not mad that Lina violated her privacy. It’s not exactly respectful to just walk into someone else’s room, and she doesn’t know Stryfe all that well yet either; just that she’s someone very important to Eriks, and pretty and capable and smart, so of course, Lina had been happy to bring her and Miss Thompson into their home for a while. If Stryfe isn’t mad, then Lina won’t push it, but… It does make her kind of curious.
“No,” Lina says honestly. “I was just kind of… bored. And I guess I like seeing the guest room decorated like this.” She shifts her weight. “The last person who stayed here was that priest, and he wasn’t here long enough to do anything with it…”
Stryfe’s eyes almost seem a little sad for a moment before she nods. “Well, I get that. You should go get Vash, I’m sure he’ll entertain you if you ask.”
Lina lets out a little laugh. “I sort of didn’t want to,” she admits, rubbing her ear. “I was more wondering—what kind of work do you do on this, um,” she glances towards the typewriter, “I mean, articles and stuff, right? Since you’re a reporter…”
“More or less these days,” Stryfe agrees. She smooths her fingers over the keys with a casual familiarity, head tilted. “But I used to work in insurance, so it was a lot of reports back then. First hand accounts. I guess the insurance work I was doing in those days was pretty unique, though.” She smiles wryly. “I’ll use it to write letters to my family, but I’m definitely not as good about it as Millie is. Then again, if I started writing as many letters as she does, I’d probably want to bite the bullet and get a better one… but I’m a little attached to this one.”
Looking back at the typewriter, Lina looks for any obvious details that Stryfe might be attached to about it. “How come?”
“Someone really important gave it to me, is all,” Stryfe says. “An old mentor of mine, back when I was just starting out… It reminds me of him sometimes.” With a small smile, Stryfe nudges her elbow against Lina’s. “Are you still bored? You could come back with me to work.”
“Really?” Lina perks up despite herself, then tries to tamp down the reaction so Miss Stryfe won’t feel pressured—she only smiles, though.
“Sure. We’re not doing anything crazy today. I’m sorry Millie would be happy to have the tagalong.”
Lina rocks on her feet, mulling it all over. Granny won’t care, and Eriks… well, he’ll have Granny. A day or two out with the two reporter women won’t be a bad thing, will it? Lina really does want to see what they do all day, so… She nods, tugging at the bottom of her vest with a grin.
“Yeah?” Stryfe raises an eyebrow with a smile of her own. “Okay. Then I’ll grab what I need, and maybe you can pack the three of us a lunch?”
“Deal!” Lina heads for the door, moving quickly to cut down on time—but stops there, turning around to watch as Stryfe opens her desk drawer. She doesn’t really need to know specifically what Miss Stryfe came back to grab, but before she goes running off… “Um, Miss Stryfe?”
“You can call me Meryl,” Stryfe says, nonetheless looking a bit pleased by the title as she lifts her head. “What is it?”
“Thanks.” Lina grins, and Stryfe blinks at her, as if she’s surprised. Figuring she took enough time giving the thanks at all, Lina takes off, the smile still set firm on her face.