first ♎ || audio [cellphone]

[justitia]

[This call is preceded by at least fifteen minutes of sitting cross-legged on her futon, her cellphone lying innocently two feet in front of her on the covered cushion. She's staring it down with a tight-lipped and serious expression. That number has been bothering her again, and she's all too aware of the cool metal touch of the necklace resting against her sternum. Finally, she huffs out a breath of resignation and snatches up the phone, punching in the number before she can consider how insane all of this is--for about the hundredth time today.]

Hello? Is anyone there?... This is going to sound really strange, but I found this number, and I'd really like to know who it belongs to! [Certain definitions of "found" meaning "in her head". But she's trying to keep this as normal as possible.]

But if you're some kind of reverse telemarketer, I have to hand it to you: You're really good at your job. I'm not enough of a lôlô to buy anything--but still. Well-played.

Comments

[ audio; cellphone ]

[justitia]

Auê... Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

[secondcomingof]

This is a network. There is a backlog.

I would suggest reading it before further embarrassing yourself.

[ Yep. Called it. Though in his defense, he's still trying to get the bloodstains out of it so it's kind of hard to wake up on the right side at the moment. Thanks, Jack. ]

[justitia]

And I would suggest chilling out before you have an aneurism.

The most embarrassing thing I've done is mistake a network for a telemarketer. Not that it's any of your business!

[secondcomingof]

Too late for that, dear. On both fronts.

[ Also, he snorted. ]

[justitia]

...If that was supposed to imply that you actually have had an aneurism, I think you should be seeing a doctor. Not giving me lip.