IC INBOX

[slayer_not_player]

This is Tillman, I'm not here right now. Leave a message and I'll get back to you.

[Grudgingly:] If it's an emergency, try contacting Simon Silverton, designation zero zero two, zero twenty-nine.

Comments

/POPS THIS POST'S CHERRY (Fear-gas plot)

[player_not_slayer]

Gee, thanks for the answering machine, fuck head.

Look asshole, I know shit went down and it was seven kinds of dick smacking fucked up but we need to talk. I, uh, I apologize for making you beat up your wife even though she totally wasn't your wife and just a cheap whore demon thing so really you should be thanking me, dude. I saved you from yourself and okay it was my bad that I logged into you without at least telling you what was going on but the bitch was seriously tripping on my last nerve and I might have reacted a little harshly.

My bad, man.

But you seriously need to pick up you fucking device. Heather gave me your tags, and I know you'll want them back, dude. So get off your ass, grow your fucking balls back from the demon shebitch that pinched them off, and get out of the pity parade before it takes a turn into forever alone town because I'll have to do something drastic at that point.

And you will so not like me when I'm drastic, Kable.

Dude, I'm kidding, I just want you to fucking talk to me. Even uh, even if its just to tell me to go jump tits first out an airlock. And I'd ignore you, but at least it'd be something. You can manage that much, right? Unless you're too wasted on space whiskey. In which case, I'll settle for a muffled groan.

Um.

[An audible swallow.]

Do you...do you still have my cellphone, man? I think I'm going to need it so if I could at least have it back that'd be great. I swear I won't touch the Slayers shit on it or anything I just...yeah.

[He breaks off into muttering a little about his phone, his phone, can't let anyone log on to it before biting off his words into a short pause.]

I just...we need to talk, really. I'm not kidding here, Kable. We're all we've got to watch each others backs on this freaky spaceship and I can't have you getting into trouble where I can't get your ass out of it. Or...

Or if I get into trouble. Weird shit keeps going on, you know. At least you have my phone, my phone's safe. There's some really screwed up fuckers popping up on the ship, man. Convicts, freaks, deathrow psychos. They're uh. They're everywhere, like its a fucking match, like I'm one of them and this is a--

You...are you playing me? You have my phone, man and I'm feeling really like-- you have my phone and fuck if you're not playing me then who is because this shit's too heavy and I don't know, dude someone's in my head and I'm NOT supposed to be here this is a fucking map and I'm no fucking Slayer, this shit's not real it can't be real...

[A long pause of hard, scared breathing.]

I really--

[The audio cuts out with a short, possibly slightly girly scream of pure fear and the sound of his device clattering to the ground.]