Entry tags:
IC CONTACT POST

[A woman's voice comes over the line.]
You've reached the Trickster's voicemail. Unfortunately, Mr. Trickster isn't available to take your call, nor will he likely ever be. Should you still wish to leave a message, please respond after the tone, and maybe we'll remember to get it to him, mmkay?
[Beep]
[[OOC: This is an IC voicemail post for all verses games. Please put the name of the verse/game you want in the subject heading.]]
ilu gabriel
Okay, how about the Apocalypse is coming? Is that a good code? I think it sounds fine.
But it's not coming- here. Cause I- cause they won't let it. It won't happen. And I can see, you know, I know what's gonna happen. [He points indistinctly at Gabriel and then, for some reason, at Jinx before flopping down on the couch and digging the Doritos from underneath it.]
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Gibbering Drunk ain't a language I've ever heard of. English, moron, do you speak it? You're about to go into mime and that's not okay.
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...Prophets being not.. understandable is traditional. You're lucky I'm not trying to rhyme.
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Well, what was it?
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Jus' kill him already. I wanna go home now. Make him explode. Lemme close my eyes first, though.
[She's...surprisingly serious about this concept.]
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But I'd explode all over your shoes.
You could just go home, and then you could sleep a lot. [And Gabriel could heal her and make sure she doesn't die and please yes yes.]
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[He gathers Jinx up in his arms again.] C'mon, babe. I'll blow the next irritating vague guy up.
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Your pay's getting cut an' I'mma send you to bartending school.
[No, dude. She's serious.]
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I'll test the next one out better before letting you try it.
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Leaving Chuck alone with his... Revelations.
And the stench of vomit.]