IC CONTACT.

[nastygram]

"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

Comments

[rathercommon]

Like figuring out a way to help people that makes me happy, too. [ A wrinkle of her nose she tries to make look ironic, when it's anything but - ] Like figuring out how to maybe have a bit more time. [ A pause that she can't even decorate with any gestures towards irony. ] Like seeing people again who I'm never gonna see back home.

[ And then a sigh as she turns her head towards Darlene, waiting for the inevitable mockery. ]

[nastygram]

Let's not get all Hallmark about it.

[That's not quite mockery, just approaching it. All the same, when she cocks her head at Kitty, she's not necessarily impressed.]

I don't do well with the emotional appeals. I have no idea what getting my ass out of here is going to entail. If it's going to involve you, or all your people, or what. That will not stop me.

But I think you can do better than making people happy.

[rathercommon]

[ 'My friends are dead and I'd like a hope of seeing them again' turns into 'getting Hallmark about it.' Kitty shoots Darla a dry look, but doesn't respond to it. She doesn't anticipate that ever being a winnable fight against the Queen of the Nihilists. ]

I didn't say making people happy, I said helping them in a way that makes me happy. [ And, with a toss of her head: ] Anyway, why should I care about your judgments of things I can do that are better or worse?

[nastygram]

Because you know I'm right.

[Easy. She shifts her stance, cocks her hip, her arms folded over her chest.]

Because you want to know where this is going. You want in on this. You can't help yourself. You want to be involved in something bigger, right, that's what your whole deal was about. Helping people. Changing things. That doesn't just stop. You want to pretend you're retired, fine, but you are lying to yourself and you know it. And if you seriously didn't give a shit about what I thought, you wouldn't have wasted your time giving me so many deets on your life.

Or-- [She'll allow for this possibility, albeit sarcastically.] --maybe you would have. Maybe you just want to be friends. Do you just want to be friends?

[rathercommon]

No.

[ Absolutely not. Or, well...not really. Not friends. It's more that...It's hard, not to sometimes crave the company of the sorts of people she used to associate with. Her friends and associates here - they're good people, and she loves them, but they don't really get it. The hunger for change, the need, that burning insatiable desire for - yeah - something bigger...

Damn it. ]

And I do give a shit about what you think, right, yeah. I'll admit that. But not 'cause I'm about to become your biggest fan and follow your dreams or bloody whatever. Sorry to kill that dream of yours. It's because I think you're wrong in a dozen different ways. Aggressively wrong.

[nastygram]

[Biggest fan, gross. Darlene's face twists up in response to that.]

You becoming my fan is not my M.O., babe. I would titpunch you so hard. I don't want a yesman dicksucker. I want people who are gonna be worth my time.

[rathercommon]

Right, so.

[ She gestures impatiently. And swallows down the question, am I worth your time, because the last thing she wants is to seem like she cares. Even though she sort of does. A little. Mostly she's just curious. ]

You don't even want me to think you're right. So stop with that you know I am rubbish.

[nastygram]

Um, do not put words in my mouth, thanks. If "I don't want a yesman dicksucker" translates, in your little head, to "please do not agree with me", then maybe I'll leave your ass here right now.

Because I am willing to devote time and effort to showing you how right I am. If I think you are seriously and for real gonna be worth any of that. There's a difference between some slobbering sycophant and what I'm talking about, and I'm pretty sure you know that.

[rathercommon]

[ And Kitty sniffs - though, secretly, she's a little pleased. ]

Well. It'll take a lot of effort and time. I'm very self-righteous, you know. Which you'll have to put up with. And I'll try to convince you in return.

[nastygram]

[JESUS CHRIST. Darlene shuts her eyes a moment and pops them back open, exaggerated.]

Okay, I'm not saying we're hanging out, or I'm gonna supply you with regular updates. Climb out of my ass now, please, that is not how this is going down.

I'm proving it by the shit that will happen. And, I know, infrequency of contact is only going to give you time to write your impassioned speeches, but do me a favor and keep them to a three minute max, okay, because I have shit to do.

[rathercommon]

That doesn't work for me. I believe in conversations, not showing off like we're the United States and the Soviet bloody Union locked in the Cold War.

[nastygram]

You have seriously been here too long.

[the Cold War is so eight thousand years ago to everyone normal, ok]

[rathercommon]

I mean it.

[ She lifts her hand to point at Darlene. ]

No proxy wars. Only honest conflict.

[nastygram]

Okay, let's not get ahead of ourselves.

[She rummages in her purse for another cigarette. It's been a long conversation, okay.]

I'm not into painplay. Or honesty, T B H.

[rathercommon]

Oh, aren't you? Hadn't noticed.

[ She shakes her head and then holds out her hand for a cigarette. ]

Are you afraid to talk?

[nastygram]

[She huffs a short laugh, more at the question than Kitty's silent request for a cigarette. That she actually complies with, digs out a second and hands it over, plus lighter. Zippo, with a dragon on it, the kind of thing you'd get at a trinket store in Chinatown.]

I'm the strong silent type.

[rathercommon]

Yeah?

[ Kitty actually shuts up a moment as she lights the cigarette. Her movements aren't entirely smooth - she's clearly not a frequent smoker - but she manages. ]

A revolution is nothing without words. A revolution without words is just a... [ She gestures with the cigarette a moment as she tries to figure out a good metaphor. ] An apocalypse. Mindless destruction unless you sell it.

[nastygram]

[nts, get Kitty to smoke more because then she shuts up more.]

I didn't write the copy, Fidel. I wrote the code. But if you wanna get high sometime, I bet I can do the speeches from memory. Your supply. This will also surprise you, but I did not get points in school for sharing.

[rathercommon]

[ Kitty's brows draw down - ]

I haven't got a supply.

[ But, because curiosity is a powerful force, she shrugs a moment later. ]

But I want to hear the speeches.

[ And then, after a moment - ]

Also, you gave me a cigarette.

[nastygram]

Obviously I got the cigarettes off of someone else.

[She takes a pointed drag of her own.]

No supply, no speech. This is basic capitalist supply and demand, because like it or not, we're standing in a capitalistic hellhole, and I will use that to my advantage.

[rathercommon]

Actually, that'd make this a barter economy, wouldn't it. Capitalism sort of hinges on the existence of liquid currency.

[ A shrug. ]

But all right. Drugs can't be that hard to find, I imagine.

[nastygram]

[PLEASE DO NOT CORRECT ME WHEN I AM BEING SARCASTIC YOU PEDANTIC BITCH is what Darlene was going to say

but instead she just laughs.]

Okay, cool.

[rathercommon]

Right.

[ She takes a drag, then says: ]

I'd tell you where I live, but you already know, don't you. Come by next week.

[nastygram]

You're not as senile as you look. Congratulations.

[She flicks ash off the end of her cigarette, with a smirk. Then she heaves herself forward and tugs up the strap of her purse, ready to head off.]

See you around, old bag.