This story is of questionable canonicalness – it probably happened, probably about 100 years after Cya & Leo graduate from Addergoole (or about 93 years after the end of the world) – but the exact date is up in the air, as well as some details.
It follows the Apollo/Boom stuff you can find on top on the Boom tag by about 2 years.
Mike was grinning, tanned, and dressed in new, strange clothes when he sashayed into Luke’s office. In green and brown, he looked like he had stepped out of a Robin Hood film – or, knowing Mike, possibly the pornographic spoof of a Robin Hood film.
“Cloverleaf,” Luke guessed. Mike had way too much fun on his little excursions, wherever he went, but only Cloverleaf left him grinning like that. They liked him in the bars there, it turned out, and probably the brothels, too.
(Luke wouldn’t put it past Cynara to have put in brothels just for Mike).
“Cloverleaf. They have newspapers.” He flopped the tri-folded paper down on Luke’s desk.
“All the comforts of the modern age,” Luke muttered. “Next thing we know, she’ll have self-driving cars.”
“Horses do that pretty well, actually. They say the press is pretty free, there. Only a couple rules, if my informant is to be believed.”
“How drunk was your informant?” The paper was called The ‘Leaf Leaves, and the first headline was something about Mayor Collapses? Luke picked up the paper.
“Faiiirly sober?” Mike hedged. “As sober as normal, at least. They like their papers. They like their city, turns out. I mean, nationalism and all, but it’s nice to see people happy in their home. And, ah,” he gestured at the paper. “With their Mayor.”
Luke unfolded the paper and stared. “Mike, what is this?”
“They’ve redeveloped photography,” Mike added helpfully.
“I can see that. What is this?”
“It’s a photo of the Mayor collapsing, like the paper says.” Mike was grinning, damn his soul.
“No.” He stared at the photo. It was grainy and pixelated, printed in four colors with the offset slightly off on the red. But it was very clearly Leofric Lightning-blade carrying Cya Red Doomsday. They were smiling. They were happy. And Leo was wearing a golden collar around his throat. “Mike…”
“Most of the rumors say it’s her collar.” Mike’s smile had vanished, replaced by something strange and thoughtful. “And all of the rumors say they’re happier now.”
Cya Red Doomsday’s best Words had always been Tempero and Intinn, Control and Mind. And she’d always been balanced by Leo’s absolute certainty that he was a good guy. Luke was already headed for the door.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1055765.html. You can comment here or there.