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

$nastygram: (C:\bogosity)$

From:

nastygram

[Of goddamn course it's Little Miss Revolutionary Retiree. Somehow. Inexplicably.]

Not that I owe you shit, but he's my date. And you're a voyeur, freak. How about you go fly into a big picture window somewhere.

[Huh? Great idea, right? Darlene turns away very pointedly and hits SAVE on her new contact info.]

From:

rathercommon

Is he?

[ Kitty buzzes down to land on the table, cocking her head up at Darlene. And she speaks in a voice that's really bright and optimistic and warm. ]

So you are settling down and just living a happy life here? Oh, that's so good. I'm so happy to hear that. I was really worried before.

$nastygram: (C:\jrst)$

From:

nastygram

[Oh my god.

There's a thin whippy menu tucked between the umbrella and the salt and pepper holder, the kind that's barely anything more than laminated cardstock. Darlene snatches it up and slaps it down. Probably not fast enough to squash or hurt her avian friend, but she'll make her point.]

Get lost.

From:

rathercommon

[ Oooh.

Fuck it. Kitty sees that menu coming, and her response is quick: she turns into a flea, tiny as anything, and springs forward to cling to a fold of her clothing. And her date is coming back now. If it's a real date, Kitty thinks, Darla will tell him the truth - there's some weird imPort here, things are so strange, help me find her, et cetera - and if it's a great big lie, she'll pretend everything's okay. In which case, Kitty will get to continue to listen in. So screw you. ]

$nastygram: (C:\derf)$

From:

nastygram

[One thing Darlene is not good at is pretending not to be mad. When she lifts the menu and Kitty has fucked off somewhere--well, that's good, but what's not good is she didn't see it happen. A hummingbird is pretty small, but not small enough that she'd just flat-out miss it zipping away from her.

Which means, what.

Doesn't matter. Darlene is irritated.] Fucking, [she mutters, under her breath, and then Jake is back with two coffees in paper cups. He takes in the sight of Darlene and a puzzled expression comes to his face.

Everything okay?]

Everything's awesome. [Darlene holds out her hand for the coffee. She pastes on a smile. It's a little too tight to be believable.] Thanks.

[Jake hesitates. Then he hands over the cup and sits down again. Are you sure? You don't look like, but, impatiently, Darlene interrupts him:]

Are we seriously going to sit here and make small talk? [The directness wrongfoots Jake. Unruffled, Darlene wrenches the lid off of her cup and blows across the top of it.] I can do a little if you like have to pretend. But please don't start telling me about your childhood or something or I will straight up hurl in this coffee.

From:

rathercommon

[ This...isn't really a date, is it? Kitty suddenly starts to worry. What if it really is? What if she was wrong? And she's just pissed off Darlene so that she blows it? No, it can't be. Giving a false name, acting all fake - all that has to mean that this is a sting. Right?

...Right?

Hell. Though, to be fair, if it is a real date, it seems like that poor Jake would eventually get moody pissed-off Darlene instead of the nicer version he had gotten earlier. Still, as a little rebuke for her nastiness, Kitty - buried somewhere near Darlene's collarbone - gives a little nip to her skin. ]

$nastygram: (C:\notwork)$

From:

nastygram

What the ef--

[Darlene's intake of breath is a sudden sharp hiss, right on the heels of that near-swear. Not that she's censoring herself around her date (fuck that), just, that's what comes out first. She slaps her hand against her collarbone with force and stares down at her own boobs and decolletage.

Jake's surprise changes slightly. What's wrong?, but Darlene pretty much cuts him off with a bland but forceful,]

Nothing. [--Even if she's still staring down at herself. Because fuck you, Kitty Jones, because this has to be her fault, somehow.] Do you have a psycho ex? Who's like, probably super underage? And who's kind of a megabitch?

[Very Pointed Comments. None of which help Jake at all, who honestly just came out to have a good time. Um. No?]

From:

rathercommon

[ Another small bite, this time sort of on the shoulder region. Underage. Megabitch. How completely fucking rude. Honestly. That steams her enough that she doesn't care if she is maybe ruining a legitimate date. ]

$nastygram: (C:\bogosity)$

From:

nastygram

Bitch!

[Darlene's curse interrupts whatever else Jake might have to say. She slaps her hand against her shoulder.]

Cocksucking little-- Okay, no. You know what? Bye.

[No more Ms. Nice Darlene. Jake is getting the full treatment. Which, tbh, even while she's catfishing, Darlene keeps herself pretty real. Just sweet enough to get what she wants. She has a hard time representing herself otherwise; too honest, or something.

Which means that it's still probably pretty surprising when she stands up and shoves her chair back with the backs of her knees, grabs her purse and sunglasses and coat and shoves the chair back in again.]

Raincheck, dude. Thanks for the coffee.

[Which she grabs off of the table, and turns on her heel to stalk out of the confines of the cafe's patio, muttering to herself:]

I swear to God, you little--

From:

rathercommon

So what was that for?

[ The voice echoes from somewhere behind Darlene's ear. There's maybe a slight hint of sheepishness, complemented by the fact that her follow-up question is: ]

That...wasn't a real date, was it?

$nastygram: (C:\jrst)$

From:

nastygram

Oh my fucking god.

[--Darlene says, under her breath. Just barely under her breath. She resists the urge to slap her ear against her shoulder to squash Kitty Jones, earwig. Or what the hell ever.]

Are you kidding me right now. Please fuck off already. How are you not getting that I am not wanting to hang out with you right now? Or ever?

From:

rathercommon

[ With an irritable sniff - ]

Tell me what that was about and I'll go away.

$nastygram: (C:\dontdothatthen)$

From:

nastygram

That was a date. And while I realize you probably have never been on a date in your life, you're still a piece of shit for screwing everything up for me, and you basically owe me now.

[Except for the part where she spent a long time fucking with Jake's phone. Date stuff.]

From:

rathercommon

I'll have you know that I'm in a committed open polyamorous relationship.

[ The nerve. ]

And that was a weird date. What were you doing to his phone?

$nastygram: (C:\rude)$

From:

nastygram

Wow, gold star!

[Hard fake cheer.]

Guess what? I didn't ask. Because it's none of my business who you're fucking, and it's none of your business who I'm fucking because we're not friends.

[Skirting the phone issue entirely tyvm.]

What the hell do you care, anyways. [AND ALSO] And would you please fucking-- stop doing whatever you're doing and walk next to me like a normal person, you psycho, I'm over this--

From:

rathercommon

[ Firmly: ]

I will when you tell me what you were doing.

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

From:

nastygram

Ugh.

[With a huge eyeroll that Kitty, no matter where she is, will miss out on, because Darlene is wearing her sunglasses. It hardly matters, the eyeroll is basically in her voice.]

Look, I hate to disappoint you, since you were probably spying on me to actually get some real revolutionary shit going for yourself again. Props. But it was. [Slowly.] A date. Okay, Nancy Drew? God, you're a crappy detective. Elbowing your way in and accusing people of shit without basis.

From:

rathercommon

You did something with his phone.

[ If she had shoulders, she'd be shrugging. ]

Basis.

$nastygram: (C:\bletch)$

From:

nastygram

Yeah, I put my phone number in it.

[--She says, loudly, and with force.]

God, you psycho, what is with you.

From:

rathercommon

Okay.

[ Damn it. ]

So what did you like about him?

$nastygram: (C:\onelinefix)$

From:

nastygram

His dick.

[So. More conversationally:]

Tell me what you heard us talking about.

From:

rathercommon

Oh, really. That was not a man who'd had sex with you.

$nastygram: (C:\beaniekey)$

From:

nastygram

[pls.]

Do you not sext in your cute poly relationship?

From:

rathercommon

[ A little disgruntled: ]

No. They'd probably freak out if I tried.

[ But that's beside the point - ]

I hope you're not saying he sent you a dick pic and you decided, oh, yes, marvelous courting technique, this is the man I'm going to have sex with. You're worth far more than a dick-pic seduction.