IC CONTACT POST

[uberboned]

[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.]]

Comments

[expunger]

[Practically snarling-] Be quiet, you jackass.

[Great. They're back to square one, to the Gabriel who thought she was a Vulcan (whatever that is) and a robot and a too-far-gone drone for their absentee brother and Father. The person with whom she has nothing in common and nothing to say to.]

[uberboned]

[........]

...Say that again. Only slower.

[expunger]

I became comfortable with that word seven years ago.

[uberboned]

I take it all back. I love this event.

[expunger]

Shut your mouth before I do it for you. This event is tiresome.

[uberboned]

[Gabriel sniffs the air experimentally. No, he's not... listening. At all.] Did you get new perfume? I can barely smell the hell-taint.

[expunger]

[Irritably she reaches out a hand, letting white light flare out blindingly to fill their sight with pure, untainted, brilliantly shining Grace. When it dies down, Gabriel's lingering injuries from the tunnels are gone.]

[uberboned]

Hey! What're you- [......

His panic cuts off as he realizes... There's no hellfire anywhere in that. It feels... Nice, actually. Like real Grace. Gabriel blinks for a moment and then stares at Raphael.] Looks like Stella got her groove back.

[expunger]

[Her annoyance softens for a moment as she looks at him. Oh, that is a reaction she could get used to.]

Yes, I have. [She understands some of his Gabriel gibberish now- enough to know what that means.] It wasn't easy. You once compared it to "looking for the only exhaust port on Mount Doom."

[Whatever the Hell that means. She still isn't sure. Something hyperbolic about impossible tasks, and that's it.]

[uberboned]

...Sounds like me. [He's stunned, okay? ...He's even more stunned that she (A. Remembered that and (B. Actually repeated it. This event, man.]

[expunger]

You said it in a moment of unique distress.

[Picture it: a tempest of centuries-old emotions, mounting frustrations, and immeasurable struggle coming together in a pained but honest moment between two long-divided siblings, and in a single chance to relate to her and appreciate the struggle ahead of her, he opened his mouth gravely and said... that.

It was memorable.]

[uberboned]

[There's a moment where Gabriel looks almost eager to know what Raphael knows, but it's a moment that is quickly clamped down on, because what he knows and what Raphael knows are two different things and Raphael's memories are completely fake, so forming a genuine bond with his sibling over it seems... Gauche, somehow. He shakes off the feelings of longing and shrugs.] Seems like there was a lot to be distressed about back then... Y'know, back in a time I never experienced, because it never happened, but I'll give the Animus props- they definitely get me.

[expunger]

[She, meanwhile, is giving him a look that (if you cook it down and strain the feels out) is decidedly nostalgic.]

You have changed the least out of all of us. I find it reassuring.

[uberboned]

That's 'cause I've had a few millenniums to get really well-adjusted. You guys haven't. Welcome to Culture Shock 101.

[expunger]

"Well-adjusted" is a strong term for any of us.

[uberboned]

Better-adjusted, then.

[expunger]

[She nods, conceding the point with surprising ease.]

Where are the rest of your snakes?

[She only sees (or senses) one. What's going on bro.]

[uberboned]

...I have an army of snakes?

[expunger]

You call them an orchestra.

[uberboned]

[A wistful sigh.] My dreams have finally been realized.

[expunger]

I don't think I will ever understand you.

[♥]