IC CONTACT

[wizzardly]

VOICEMAIL:

"Er... yes, okay, I suppose I should tell you that if you're trying to reach me I'm not here, and if you're trying to reach me because you want to do something involving pointy bits of metal or otherwise painful objects, I'm never going to be here. So sorry."

Comments

[wizzardly]

All right, I just want to point out that both of those things are inaccurate. Let's make that clear.

[he still has his PRIDE, April.

...A little bit. He's pretty sure. If he goes looking for it.]

But I've told a few other people. ...A man named Shade. I think I told Dorian, but I can't remember, that night's a bit of a blur. Jeff. Kitty. That little weasel git Lord Baelish.

Why?

[aggressiveapathy]

You're my new favorite reality show.

[She doesn't know about the others. But Jeff and Dorian? Oh god. It was all going to be so beautiful as they attempted to wingman.]

[wizzardly]

What does that mean?

[he is nervous. When April gets excited that generally means something terrible.]

[aggressiveapathy]

I want to know about all the dates they send out on- all of them. In exchange, I'll give you three lifelines.

[wizzardly]

[he has so many questions, it's hard to pick where to start.]

Lifelines?

[aggressiveapathy]

I'll help you. On your dates. You send a text or something and I'll show up and make the date end.

[wizzardly]

[which brings him to his next question.]

Why do you think they're going to get me to go on dates? That's somewhat against the point of the whole thing.

[aggressiveapathy]

Have you ever met people?

[wizzardly]

I'm not that easily persuaded, I mean.

[aggressiveapathy]

Oh my god, please.

[ She just got you to swear an oath without knowing what it was. Bro. ]

Do you want the deal or not?

[itistolaugh]

7:30
music is good, dancing even better
no fish. im still haunted by memories of shark smell.

05.26.2016 -- voicemail

[slightlyoffchilt]

Rincewind? [There's a sloosh noise on the other end.] -- Damn it. Rincewind? Rincewind.








Rincewind. Call me back.

[wizzardly]

I will take these into account.

[EVEN IF THE THOUGHT OF DANCING IS TERRIFYING. but music, okay, music he can do.]

See you then. I'll send you the name of a restaurant for starters?

[wizzardly]

...Yes.

[because of course he wants an 'out' for any hypothetical disasters.]

Agreed.

[wizzardly]

[and six minutes later:]

Dr. Chilton? Are you all right? Has - has something happened?

[itistolaugh]

works for me
and remember, we aren't paying so dont hold back ;)

[wizzardly]

No worries there I assure you

[slightlyoffchilt]

Yes, something has -- happened! [A beat.] Someone replaced my 2011 Aston Estate Pinot Noir with cardboard box wine.

[Abigail had, in fact. Like a year ago. Maybe even longer ago.]

It tastes like homicide.

[He said, before drinking more anyway.]

[aggressiveapathy]

Done. But I want fill reports.

[She offers her hand to shake.]

[wizzardly]

...I didn't know wine could eve come in a box. Or that murder had a taste. The wonders of a modern age, I suppose.

[a beat. Then, carefully:]

Is that - something I can help with? Do you need me to bring you more wine, or something?

[wizzardly]

Verbal. And over drinks.

[but he'll take her hand for a firm shake.]

- And off-topic, but do you know Lord Baelish?

[aggressiveapathy]

No. But he sounds like a douche bag.

[ Anyone that goes by Lord, you know how it is. Just stupid. ]

Why?

[wizzardly]

Because he is, he's an absolute prat, and I'd like very much to perhaps do some mischief against him sometime.

...I understand you're something of an expert there.

[aggressiveapathy]

[April shifts to lean back in the pillows, clearly pleased by the turn in conversation.]

Go on.

[wizzardly]

I've no ideas yet. [a beat.] Well, I may have convinced a sort of priestess princess sort that he has a drug habit in need of "holy guidance", but that's about it.

I thought it would be good to point him out to you. Know your enemy, sort of thing.