inbox.

[nashua]

Inbox

619 - 7868

Voice — Text

"Hey! You've reached Nash. I can't pick up right now but leave a message and I'll get back to you. Bye!"

Code Source

Comments

262 – 4396

[terrorisms]

( alert the media, look who's texting first )

You busy?

[nashua]

[ A couple of hours later (when she has a minute off her feet; when she's tired of the unexpected push notification making her stomach clench) — ]

At work.
Everything okay?

[terrorisms]

( You know, he'd half convinced himself she wasn't gonna answer at all. Would've left it at that, probably. )

Fine.
Come over after if you want.
I'll buy dinner.

[nashua]

[ It's a bad idea to test the waters here, take the temperature of this offer by prodding at him with something stupid.

She does it anyway. ]

Got this biker gang worshipping me religiously this week
Okay if they come too?

[terrorisms]

Only if they pay for their own damn pizza. I'm not made of money.

[nashua]

K
We'll be by after 9

Black olives and mushrooms please
Don't forget the garlic sauce

[ At around 9:14 PM, knock knock knock. This is the transition to action you get as I phone tag. (Details to come next tag.) For what it's worth, only one shadow falls across the front door of his living space. ]

[terrorisms]

Yeah yeah yeah the garlic sauce, I know

( Through a combination of dedication and happenstance, Frank's managed to find the one good pizza joint in this whole goddamn city. As far as he's figured out, it's somebody's great-great-grandfather that came over from some version of New York, and passed the recipe down from generation to generation, shunning any member of the family that suggested they try switching to Chicaco style sometime.

Anyway, the point is, the pizza's already there by the time she is. He answers the door, gestures her in, and maybe shoots a cursory glance around the parking lot just to make sure no hint of motorcycle has dared to tread in his biker-free domain.

He's already half-way to the fridge when he asks: )

You want a beer?

( Assuming that's a yes by default. He'll get into the whole reason he invited her over in a minute, he's gonna give her two goddamn minutes to settle in first. )

[nashua]

Yeah, I’ll take one.

[ Once let in, Nash treats the place like she lives there. Her bag is dumped carelessly on the floor; only the table leg keeps the contents from spilling out. A pair of mid-heel pumps aren’t kicked off — she isn’t a monster, after all — but they are tugged off her heels and abandoned in the entry way, right in front of the door. Most mercifully, the humiliating mini-skirt and low-necked camisole that’s part of the evening job’s “uniform” has been covered up by a ratty grey hoodie with GALBADIA GARDEN HOCKEY TEAM emblazoned on the front in dark red.

Does she grab a plate? Not this time. The lid of the pizza box is flipped open, baring its paper grease stains for all the world to see, and her hands descend to slice number one like a hawk swooping toward an abandoned hamster.

She gets through a few bites before she glances over her shoulder and—

Oh, yeah. Probably shouldn’t do that anymore.

Some sheepishness colours the way she turns back, ducking her head. ]

So, what’s up? [ She barely leaves him enough air for a syllable before continuing. ] Oh, Tera at Rayne’s said to tell you thanks for getting that guy out the other week. She also said—

[ Around a mouthful of pizza, Nash reconsiders relaying Tera’s true message. Smartly, perhaps. Chew, chew, swallow, and: ]

—that you are now in the lifetime “two-for-one beer” club.

262 – 4396

[terrorisms]

Not that I need to tell you this since you shouldn't be going there anyway but steer clear of the god damn fringes for a while.

[nashua]

What did you do this time?

[terrorisms]

I didn't do shit thank you very much
Diffusion zone is melding people with inanimate objects, everything's melting together like fucking soup.

[nashua]

wtf

Have I mentioned I hate this place?

[terrorisms]

Once or twice

( a day. )

[nashua]

good





[ A few minutes later, maybe a bit deliberately — a bit shyly — delayed, ]

Hey
Can you do me a favor?

[terrorisms]

What is it

( He makes no promises. )

[nashua]

Lee's roommate didn't want her ashes so I have them
I didn't know that sort of thing made it even louder

[ Just that peek behind the curtain, without further elaboration. Somewhere, Nash is rubbing at her eyes, feeling half-collapsed across the bridge of her nose. ]

I want to bury them somewhere but I don't want go alone

text.

[imperatour]

What's xmas?

[nashua]

[ This is the cutest text she's ever gotten. ]

Winter holiday. Back home, we called it Michaelmas. People give each other presents, have a big dinner, decorate a tree.

[imperatour]

Just any tree?

[nashua]

Usually a pine tree that you bring into your house. It has needles, not leaves.

[ It only takes a few minutes and some pencil crayons to mock up a sketch, which she takes a picture of and sends to Furiosa. ]



Ornaments are kind of a waste of money but they look nice

[imperatour]

They put some of those lights up at AM. They look nice.
And these shiny ropes too.

[ Kind of cute to consider Furiosa admiring the tinsel in between threatening to cut various parts off of men. ]

Could probably find a small one to put up next to the TV.

[ She means in Frank's apartment, naturally. ]

[nashua]

Rayne's has over a dozen small ones in the basement. No one is gonna notice if you take one.
No tinsel, though.

[ A moment or two, and then she adds — ]

Do me a favour?
Go easy on Frank right now
Michaelmas is nice but can also make people feel like shit
Especially if they miss their family.

[ For example, don't text him demanding holiday plans. ]

[imperatour]

[ And then Furiosa may or may not have almost beefed it by texting asking about Holiday plans. Social grace is not exactly something practiced in the wasteland. Thankfully she didn't fumble it entirely. ]

Do you have to work that day or could you do something

text.

[imperatour]

Been a minute.
You doing okay?

[ "Should we talk about what happened on the train" apology tour. ]

[nashua]

Always good, you know me.
Did you know some people kept their fancy clothes?

[ She's a little envious, truth be told. ]