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

$nastygram: (C:\notwork)$

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.

$nastygram: (C:\line666)$

From:

nastygram

[She huffs something almost like a laugh.]

Um, I'm sorry, are you slut shaming me or reading off of some girl power cue card.

From:

rathercommon

Girl power cue card?

[ Another noise of annoyance. ]

Honestly, have lots of sex, but do it with guys who are worth your time. And he was dull. Even if you're going to ditch him later, he ought to have something interesting to say. And that guy was mansplaining films to you.

[ And, getting back to earlier... ]

And I heard everything. From the very start.

Edited Date: 2016-09-13 02:45 am (UTC)

$nastygram: (C:\FOO?)$

From:

nastygram

[EQUALLY DISGUSTED by Kitty, Darlene makes a grossed out scoff.]

Oh my fucking god, please stop. I'm gonna ralph.

Not that I have to tell you this, because, trufacts, what I do is seriously none of your goddamn business? But I still totally know what I'm doing. It's a hookup. Please climb down out of the pro femme pulpit, okay? Not interested. Thank you.

From:

rathercommon

Rubbish!

[ She resists the urge to bite Darlene as she becomes more certain of this: ]

That's total rubbish. I've hooked up with dozens of guys - so there's one for your accusations that I'm slut-shaming you - and they never are like that. He was looking for a relationship. And you gave him a fake name, and you were doing something weird with those text messages...

[ A beat as she thinks - ]

Right. That's it, isn't it. You put something on his phone.

$nastygram: (C:\misbug)$

From:

nastygram

Wow. [Darlene looks up at the sky, either in another eyeroll, or maybe in a silent prayer for strength. Give me the power to accept dumb bitches who are acting as literal bugs atm.] Well, you got there eventually.

[A very oblique yes.]

Please be a normal person now.

From:

rathercommon

[ Tartly: ]

It would have taken me a lot less time to get there, and saved you a lot of time, if you hadn't lied to me so energetically. I don't want to be didactic, but you might take a lesson from that.

[ And, with absolutely no transformation from literal pest to figurative pest, she goes on: ]

What's it do? Get information? Who was he, that he'd have information that you'd want?

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

From:

nastygram

Uh-uh, bitch.

[Hell no. Darlene stops dead. By now she has made her way to a cute sunny park. It's a weekday afternoon, so mostly the place is empty. Around the bend up ahead, a play structure rises into view. Rocketship themed.

Darlene narrows her eyes at its peak.]

You are changing back now or I'm taking a fucking Lysol bath.