Work Text:
Back in Backlund, Fors Wall was smoking her fifth cigarette of the morning whilst writing a will, doing her utmost best to make use of the meager time she had left in her abysmally embarrasing life.
She was certain that this mistake of hers would result in more than just 'social' death.
She had just tearfully finished a line that made clear that her writings were all hers and purely her own ideas, no need to implicate her friends, when an illusory grey fog materialised in front of her eyes.
Immediately, Fors started shaking.
She had just bowed her head and was prepared to utter final words of apology when she heard Mr Star's words.
"Please tell Miss Magician that the writings she shared with me have given me the inspiration that I needed, and that I am thankful for her assistance."
One second.
Two seconds.
A full minute passed before Fors reacted.
"Ah?"
After that line, the fog disappeared and nothing else happened.
He? He appreciated it? He didn't hate it?
For a long silence, Fors even wondered if she had given him the right documents all along. But no, in the last few hours, she had checked and triple checked again and again, driving Xio insane.
She was absolutely, 100 percent certain, that she had given Mr Star a hefty stack of her most unhinged works. Since this was the case, she started doubting if she had heard right.
More seconds ticked past, but still nothing came down to smite her.
Perhaps, I really am safe?
At this, Fors let out a long sigh and released all the tension she had been accumulating.
She leaned back in her chair, threw her will in progress into the bin, and stretched her arms. Staring up at the ceiling, Fors swore to use this experience as a reminder to cherish life.
...
Over the course of the next few hours, Fors performed a variety of mundane, day to day tasks with a pep in her step as she was increasingly convinced that she had escaped divine retribution.
But, there was one thing that still confused her.
Just how did this resolve Mr Star's issue?