singinghuntress | Inbox for Cerealia

Inbox for Cerealia

( audio . video . text . action )

You have reached the inbox of Rip van Winkle. Leave a message so I can murder you later.

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[Rip might notice a vehicle parked outside the butcher's store today. The only odd thing about the vehicle is that it's been there for a good few hours now, right up to closing time, and its occupant has been watching the shop entrance very intently for comers and goers.

There's nothing to indicate it's a police vehicle Blackquill has "borrowed" from the department, on the grounds he had clearance from Integra to carry out an investigation. Really, Blackquill finds Integra's whole claim about vampire Nazis entirely laughable. It's absurd enough that he'd like to march into the shop to see the truth of the claims for himself. But he does, at least, take Integra seriously enough not to do anything reckless.

So he'll wait. He's hunted down a target for seven years before -- waiting a few hours for a suspect to show their face is nothing to him.]

Just between us girls, did you take down the CEO?

[Because the first suspect would definitely be Rip. Obviously, Grell didn't do it if she's asking.]

pakaje 4 u at niteo hope ur having a good day!

[When (or if) she decides to pick up the package being held for her, she'll find a simple steel bracelet set with a glass sapphire to match her eyes, and a rabbit's foot with a note written in barely legible graffiti text.]

CUDNT FIND THE REST OF THE BASTURD BUT IM STILL LOOKING
HAPPY DAY!

[Yeah, he gave up trying to spell Valentine's and just left it at that.]

[She does not want to deal with Rip in person. Well, she never wants to deal with Rip in person, but especially not now. Have a disgruntled Sir Hellsing on the opposite line.]

Explain this.

[What Rip receives next, is a forwarded notification listing Rip as a 'gracious donor' for Integra to compete in a drag race, which she distinctly does not recall signing up for. Rip, you dun fucked up.]

[Namur shows up in the early afternoon the Saturday following Rip's network post, his hair recently combed for once, his colorful print shirt freshly cleaned and worn "Fishman Island Style"- which is to say, completely unbottoned and open in the front. The ride to the new rock climbing facility is pretty uneventful, all things said and done. It's not until they're actually inside, looking up at the sheer, fabricated cliff as attendants scurry around adjusting harnesses that Namur voices any kind of opinion on the so-called adventure they've taken on.]

Thing looks lame as shit. This's s'posed t' be rock climbin'?

[The hand and footholds are so obvious, screwed in to the side of the thing and brightly colored to boot. Damn. Namur elbows Rip a little, chuckling.]

Ever scurry up one a these things 'fore?

I take it back. Do whatever you want with that git.|

Edited 2015-12-28 01:04 (UTC)

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action; backdated into forever

[Locked Voicemail]

[text] [feb 14, afternoon]

Audio; Not sure if sorry.

Action

[TEXT]