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HOUSE #1470
mayo ✧ little shit ✧ loving daughter

"You've reached Carol Danvers, aka Captain Marvel. I'm not here, leave a message!

If it's urgent... uh. Leave it urgently."

speed dial
steve
sakamoto
gremlin

( call | text | voicemail | mail | action )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

carol
please answer

[no response.]

CAROL

carol

carol if youre there please answer

if this is payback for that stunt with zura and the juice then im sorry a hundred times over

just answer

carol

goddammit

[still nothing but dead air]

[ he's drunk. he is very drunk, actually. (it was the skeleton that did it, disbelief and some crazed sort of adrenaline rush from watching a clattering pile of bones kick its bony feet up onto his office desk. leaving the drink alone was out of the question by then.) there's some doubt that he'll remember this in the morning, until he looks at his phone's outbox folder.

for now, though... ]

plse dont be dead crrol

[and it's the morning before she finds the damn phone again, sitting atop one of the blades of the ceiling fan, covered in bone dust and scratches. groggy from sleep, she wipes it off, drags herself into the kitchen, sets some coffee to brewing before she checks it to see what she missed -- and what those little bastards did with it.]

[...

...

...]

[...oh.

oh, no.]

[noooononononono

no--]

tatsms

[fuck one-handed texting.

FRANTIC RINGING PICK UP THE PHONE.]

[ the phone in question is somewhere on the other side of the room, far away from the graceless sprawl that is Sakamoto. it's uncertain whether he merely dropped it next to the rubbish bin or if he'd thrown it in a neat fit of merry intoxication, or if their new skeleton housemate had been so kind as to try and toss it away for him. mysteries.

busy as he is with drooling into the carpet, the call goes unanswered. ]

[speaking of skeleton housemates, something like eight of them amble into the kitchen while she's waiting for an answer, picking through the cupboards and the fridge in a creepy imitation of morning ritual. there are a couple more in the living room watching tv, and she's pretty sure she can see one through the window, out on the back porch, pretending to smoke.

carol had lost her temper last night. just a little bit.

when he doesn't pick up, she makes a frustrated noise, shoves at a skeleton who's trying to nose in on the coffee pot, and braves the sad, slow waters of one-handed texting after all.]

pick up ur phne
im not dead

Edited 2013-10-24 14:35 (UTC)