nastygram | IC CONTACT.

"YOU HAVE REACHED THE VOICE MAIL BOX OF XXX-XXX-XXXX. PLEASE LEAVE A MESSAGE.

voice. text. in person.
texts and messages will go to one of three phones
1 burner phone - 1 burner phone - 1 standard issue phone registered to DoloresH4ze
NONAH, NC. #003

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

magnitudes

if I'm Bond

and I go to you for tech help

does that make you Q?

and yeah I figure there's too much evidence against me at this point

get into an argument about sugar gliders on the network and it's all over

$nastygram: (C:\steved)$

From:

nastygram

Omg do not draw me into your weird roleplay fetish

From:

magnitudes

if I were fetishising you I wouldn't make you a boring old guy

Edited Date: 2016-12-13 11:05 pm (UTC)

From:

magnitudes

that sounded so much less sleazy and creepy in my head

$nastygram: (C:\forkbomb)$

From:

nastygram

Wow ok

I learn something new about you in every convo Dick Spice
I don't WANT TO but I do

From:

magnitudes

for the low low price of converting memories to printable images YOU TOO can be spared ever having to learn anything about me ever again

comes with a 12 month supply of brain bleach

$nastygram: (C:\killerpoke)$

From:

nastygram

A method of payment I actually give a shit about

FUCKING FINALLY

From:

magnitudes

at the risk of sound like a fucking dag

is that a legit preference for me not to contact you again
I ask cause I reckon I convinced myself you thought the Spice Girls chat was hilarious instead of feeling like a stab in the eyeballs

no need to prolong your pain
respect blah blah etc

Edited (PHRASING) Date: 2016-12-14 04:52 am (UTC)

$nastygram: (C:\FOO?)$

From:

nastygram

Omg what is with you

BE NORMAL

I'm coming to pick up your friggin flash drive do not do this weird pre clingy bs to me please, it is FREAKING me out

From:

magnitudes

oi ease up
i'm not asking while wringing my hands and listening to jeff buckley in the dark
i just don't want to waste either of our time if you think i'm a tool
like i said, not a sadist, but I've got a track record of being stupid, yeah? sometimes i gotta ask shit insteadve knowing

i'll go put the bourbon on brb

$nastygram: (C:\dontdothatthen)$

From:

nastygram

Ok but consider this hon
If I did not want to speak to you ever again
I would just BLOCK YOUR ASS

CHILL
OUT

$nastygram: (C:\teergrube)$

From:

nastygram

You are a tool tho

From:

magnitudes

oh

that makes a lot of sense, actually

see, what I said about being stupid sometimes still applies

From:

magnitudes

a tool you like talking to, tho

$nastygram: (C:\jrst)$

From:

nastygram

PLEASE STOP TRYING TO GET ACTUALIZATION OUT OF ME YOU FRICKIN LOSER

From:

magnitudes

just being obnoxious, promise

$nastygram: (C:\net.personality)$

From:

nastygram

OK COOL but I am beginning to SEVERELY REGRET agreeing to come over and drink all your bourbon and maybe look at weirdo memory pics of your sister's brats

So dial it back, assface

From:

magnitudes

but your EMPHASIS CAPSLOCK is really fun

I guess I'll cooperate, this once

$nastygram: (C:\beaniekey)$

From:

nastygram

LOL.

From:

magnitudes

( Sarissa is at her old place. Not the place she was in when she first got here, but in the Murderhaus, which she's all but abandoned to instead take over part of Sarah's place. There's a lot of stuff in boxes, already neatly organised and stacked to the side, but the blue LED liquor shelf Sarah got her is still up and adorned with fuel to do considerable damage to her liver. There's two new mattresses leaning against the wall, queen size and wrapped up still from delivery, and Sarissa answers the door in scrappy jeans and a powerpuff girls tank top. Retrospect, man, but at least it shows off that beautiful dick spice tattoo. She looks down at it with a sigh before opening the door, pulling it wide open so Darlene has plenty of room to stroll in. )

Hey. Thanks for coming over.

( For all that she's able to be bright and cheeryish over the network and devices, now, there's still something more tired about her in person, less overtly energetic and a little more wary, as well as she tries to breeze past it. )

Dining room's that way, or sofa is that way.

$nastygram: (C:\DWIM)$

From:

nastygram

Okay, try not to sound too stoked that I'm here to fix your pic probs.

[--Which is as far as Darlene is going to go to reference Sarissa's slumpy attitude. She shrugs off her coat as she steps over the threshold. Black denim shorts, black tights, oversized tube socks with blue stripes slouched just below her knees, puffed over the tops of her calf-high boots. her loose-weave blue sweater has just the right amount of grungy holes and runs in it, and she's wearing a really nice leather belt that is just shy of overlarge and looks more like it belongs on ye olde knight from ye olden times.

As she slouches past Sarissa toward the couch, she presses an empty paper cup into her hands, taps the logo with her fingernails.]

This place does dece frozen yogurt, by the way. If you want to eat away your feelings or whatever. It's no Froyo, but depressingly, nothing so far is. I hate when establishments get so far up my ass I start craving their shit, but Froyo is good, so I put up with it.

[She drops her coat and backpack on the couch and sinks down beside them with a sigh.]

Wow, your decor could use some work.

From:

magnitudes

( Darlene, also stands for Depressingly Attractive, Regret Learning Exactly Never Ever.

It's not the best, okay, Sarissa is very tired.

She offers a crooked smile at the reprimand, yoghurt cup and observation. She idly considers not saying anything about yoghurt, as she tosses the container in the trash. )

Eating my feelings has to wait until Christmas. I'm in forced religious veganism until then. There's this place that does gelato in DeChima, weird flavours and stuff. There's this waffle, bacon and maple syrup special they do sometimes that's heaps good.

( Leaning over the kitchen counter, she adds:) Want a drink now or after? It'll make the "packing to move" aesthetic less depressing. Hopefully.

$nastygram: (C:\machoflops)$

From:

nastygram

Why don't you just inject straight cholesterol into your eyeballs, Jesus.

[She doesn't sound super judgmental. Maybe like thirty percent judgement, seventy percent dry amusement. Darlene plucks her sunglasses off her face and drops them onto the couch beside her, then hauls herself and shifts so she's facing her backpack--which means her feet are on the couch, but given the depressing aesthetic, who cares.

The backpack's zipper is a brisk snappy interruption, almost cheerful. The whisper-thud of pulling a laptop out of the dark interior is a little clunkier.]

Drink depends. Does 'forced religious veganism' mean I'm drinking alone or I'm drinking vegan bourbon, because one of those options is better than the other and it's the one that does not taste like dandelion piss.

[Which is what vegan bourbon would probably taste like.]

From:

magnitudes

( Finally, she actually grins.)

Most hard liquors are vegan, thank Christ. I mean, honey bourbon might be off, but I'm still allowed that. Wine is specifically not allowed, but thankfully bourbon didn't exist when they were writing up the rules.

( She's grabbing glasses and no less than three different bottles of whiskey as she talks, making a thinky face before pouring from just one of the bottles, and tucking it under her arm as she approaches the sofa with the glasses. )

And maybe if my eyeballs had tastebuds, I would. Sounds delicious.

$nastygram: (C:\facetime)$

From:

nastygram

No shit. I did not know that, because I love myself and don't actually know anything about veganism.

[Laptop already out and open, Darlene holds her hand out for a glass, with a smirk. One-handedly typing in her password, like a master.]

I'm not complaining, okay, I'm super happy it wasn't yet another weird fetish detail about you. Your tatt looks great, by the way.