Pitch
Pitch | |
|---|---|
| |
| Full Name | Pitch |
| Pronouns | She/Her |
| Species | Deepfae |
| Age | 33 |
| Height | 127 cm / 4'2" |
| Occupation | Tunnel Digger |
| Relationships |
Root - Roommate & Crush Candy - "Friend" |
| Favorite Bug | Pillbug |
| Paid Overtime | Nope |
Pitch reread the letter. Reread it again. Then once more - as if maybe, she'd missed some load-bearing punctuation mark, some tiny detail that would change the entire meaning of the paragraph. No such luck.
Magnolia district. Their next contract would be in Magnolia District. Her tunneling company, along with all the others in the area, had been engaged in a fierce race-to-the-bottom to see who could do the work for the cheapest. She supposed she ought to be lucky that even her boss had decided the standards had lowered too much, that they needed to find work somewhere else.
But Magnolia. It was a somewhat affluent region, certainly nowhere Pitch would ever have dreamed of living. It was also a several hour commute from where she lived. She didn't have the time or money to do that, not every day. And if that's the territory they were scoping out, she could only assume more contracts in the area would follow.
She could leave. God, she'd love to leave. But what then? She'd probably get snatched up by one of the tunneling companies even cheaper than hers, somehow. No one else would be all that likely to hire a Deepfae. It probably wouldn't kill her. She'd probably wish it would.
She had to move. That was the only real option. She had a weeks notice to pack up her entire life and move. She peered down at the letter again, only to realize it'd suddenly become illegible. Her hands were trembling too much.
In a single motion, the letter became a crumpled paper ball that was spiked into the wall. She screamed something, anything.
She'd moved from the deep underground amidst labor disputes and growing political tensions. But that had just been the excuse - she'd really moved because she felt trapped. It was a cramped, dim world down there, and she'd been promised so much more in the higher levels. Caverns big enough to stretch out and bask in the endless possibilities.
Eight years ago, she really believed it.
She plodded over to where the crumpled note fell, gingerly picking it off the floor and unwrapping it. She still felt a boiling anger, but more quickly than she cared to admit, it was draining. Replaced by a familiar feeling of hollowness. Oh, sure, she could rip up the letter, scream, curse the world for her circumstances. It wouldn't change a thing. Forces outside her control had decided she needed to move. So she would.
A world away from home, nothing had really changed. This was as good as it got for her. This was where the possibilities ended.