Mog House Mail, kupo!

A moogle drops a letter onto Mai's bed before vanishing again in a flash of light. "Only a few days late, kupo, she'll never notice, kupo~"

Dear Sexy Piece of Ass That Is Going To Be My Wife One Day, Dammit (Sometimes known as Mai),

How's it going, sweetie? I know we don't usually keep in touch by mail, but I know I've been out of touch for a couple days, and if I didn't drop a line every now and again, I'm fairly sure you'd come after my ass, and not in the hot way. (Though I wouldn't mind if you DID come after it in the hot way. After all, you're really freakin' sexy when you're mad. Even when it's with me. Okay, well, maybe not as MUCH when it's with me, but still. Hubba, hubba.)

You'd best be keeping your nose out of trouble (har, har) and your eyes off of other guys. You know I'm the jealous type, after all, and I'd hate to have to get more money put on my head in certain countries from chocobo-whipping a few bitches. But then, who could really hope to compete with my sexiness? Only a few names come to mind, and they're all either fond of pooper (of the male variety), or are dead. And I don't think you're into that sort of thing. Though you never know. I'm not one to judge.

You checked out those Cavernous Maws that are popping up all over the place yet, love? They seem to zap one back to the past. Master says it's because of that weird little cat thing I keep running into. He has a few powers as far as time-travel himself, but nothing that large-scale. We try not to fuck with the space-time continuum, that just tends to be baaaaaaad juju. And I think I have enough gods and avatars pissed off at me at the moment, I don't need to add this kittycat. Though, honestly? I'm not sure WHAT this guy is. A god, maybe.

You have no idea how much I've missed you these past couple of days. I keep wanting to go home and shack up with you and practice making baby-Albies. (Not ACTUALLY making them, though. I don't think the world could handle it. One of me is already pretty fucked up.) But I'm hoping we can talk soon about why I've been staying away. There's some pretty messed-up stuff in the future, and I'm only just beginning to realize just HOW messed-up it is. But don't worry, darling. We can get through anything together. We'll find a way to make it work out. We always do, right? You're too tough to accept failure, and I'm too sneaky to let other people outsmart me, so it always turns out alright in the end.

Can't wait to see you in a few. Smooch the mirror a few times for me.

Love,

Alberic

P.S.: That g-string you're going to find in the drawers in a few days? That's totally not mine. I'm just, uh, holding onto it for a friend.