stations: (Default)
puǝsuʍoʇ ʞɔɐɾ ([personal profile] stations) wrote2026-02-05 05:36 pm

Diadem Inbox

Inbox
560 – 1616
Voice — Text
"You've reached Jack. Please just text me, I really hate phone calls."
nashua: (pic#17801809)

[personal profile] nashua 2026-02-06 12:00 am (UTC)(link)
[ Ten minutes later: ]

why dont you find me attractive
nashua: (pic#17799115)

[personal profile] nashua 2026-02-06 12:05 am (UTC)(link)
[ His phone starts to ring. It stops ringing again after a moment or two. Why?

Because Tera or Tina or Tamara or Prudence — one of the many blonde, pale-eyed pixies that work at the bar with her — have confiscated her phone. Which might be the kindest, most genuine gesture of friendship (that doesn't involve murder) Nash has been on the receiving end of since arriving almost a year ago. ]

nashua: (pic#17799110)

[personal profile] nashua 2026-02-07 05:00 am (UTC)(link)
[ The answering voice is a pitch that medium-throated Nash couldn't dream of hitting, regardless of the octaves her voice can climb in Customer Service Mode. "Hi! You've reached Nash's phone. May I ask who this is?"

A pause. Beyond the bubbly voice occupying the speaker — faint words, unintelligible. A few shouts. The bachelors are enjoying their party.

"Actually, she'll call you back tomorrow—" click.

There isn't a call. She's hungover within an inch of her life, not rousing until the early afternoon and spending a good portion of it hunched over a certain porcelain apparatus. Eventually, there is a text — ]


Sorry.
Crazy night.

Talk to you later.
Edited 2026-02-07 05:00 (UTC)