out in the club and I'm sippin' that bubb' and you're not gonna reach my telephone (IC contact)

[theprobator]

[-click- five seconds of silence. fifteen seconds of silence, save for the sound of someone breathing. a scuffling of feet.]

... Whatever. Don't bother leaving a message; you're likely not even worth the air you're breathing.

[another click. how charming.]

Comments

call;

[theprobator]

[aw, Ventus, Vanitas knew you'd initiate a conversation one day! baby steps and all.]

[unfortunately, you've caught him at a bad time. so he may sound a bit snippy when he finally answers:]

What?

call;

[theprobator]

As flattering as you may find the idea, Ventus, I don't keep tabs on your several lookalikes.

[Anonymous delivery]

[drksoulwithlite]

[At some point, Vanitas, you will find a flat brown paper package tied in string. All that's written on it is:]

These might help you relax a bit x

[Inside, he will find a selection of girly magazines.]

[theprobator]

[it isn't until Vanitas holds the edges of one of the magazines he's discovered dutifully between two fingers, and a certain foldout falls out does he realize what he's looking at.]

[one part of him is disgusted. another part of him is outright confused. the whole of him figures, unconsciously, that he'll likely keep the best one and toss the rest.]

[oh, and Vanitas will likely try to throttle you next time he sees you, Trish.]