Inbox

[firinmahsparks]

[Public line.]

"Hello, you've got the wrong number. Try again. If you're interested in buying a bird, you also have the wrong number, check your damn phonebook. Leave a message if you're horribly confused."

[Business line.]

[There is some rather lively chirping in the background, unmistakably from a gaggle of lovebirds."Hello, this is the

Comments

encypted line, as usual

[settimanale]

-The Vescovo doctors were nice enough to let her have her phone. Of course they were going to monitor her calls, too. But these two are obviously used to this. So this conversation is the same as always... just between them...-

... I heard your little "accidental" post.

... So I was right, then.

Encrypted Line

[firinmahsparks]

Did you, now? Aren't you naughty.

[Marisa's voice still hasn't picked up that distinctive verbal tic; in truth, she was still angry. It remained starkly absent.]

Heard you were in the hospital again. The stairs get you, Patchy?

[She knew what happened...vaguely. Her soldatti had broken onto Voile, made a mess, kicked the shit out of Patchouli, her caporegime was pissed, and four of them died.

Details, however, were lacking.]

Encrypted Line

[settimanale]

-A sigh on Patchy's end. Of course...-

Leg. Shoulder. Cracked ribs. Nearly collapsed lung. Damage to the left temple. Sprained Ankle.

It was quite a well equipped staircase... it won't be happening again.

Encrypted Line

[firinmahsparks]

[Hahaha. Ha ha. Ha.]

No, it won't.

[Marisa's voice has turned murderously cold--before it lightens. A bit. Just a bit.]

Get a cane or something.