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

[aggressiveapathy]

No, no, no. This is important. I need to know how you'll choose Will's future bride.

[wizzardly]

...Well it'd take a bit of research, I suppose. Perhaps just keep an eye out for women who seem nice and take a few notes on them. Can't have it be someone allergic to dogs, after all. Or someone who thinks fish should be allowed to vote, that sort of thing.

[aggressiveapathy]

But what kind did you go for. You're not playing the virgin card, right?

[wizzardly]

I'm not a virgin. [with a huff.]

But I don't know, just... kind women, I suppose. Things like lovely hair or a nice bottom are all well and good, but it's not much of an indicator on whether you'll be slapped or not.

[mostly Rincewind didn't "go" for women so much as stumble awkwardly into one or two who looked at him and shrugged.]

[aggressiveapathy]

That-

[Wait. Waaait. A thought occurs so violently it derails everything else April was about to say.]

Who else did you tell?

[wizzardly]

About what?

[aggressiveapathy]

That you don't remember what sex feels like. Because it's been a million years.

[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?

[wizzardly]

...Yes.

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

Agreed.

[aggressiveapathy]

Done. But I want fill reports.

[She offers her hand to shake.]

[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.

[aggressiveapathy]

So what do you know? C'mon. Spill. This is a house war.