Deerington Inbox

[onerthes]

[A tinny man's voice gives what is clearly a default answer machine message. Vira-Lorr is still figuring the phone out it seems.]
"Hello, we are not available now. Please leave your name and phone number after the beep. We will return your call."
*Beep*

Comments

Text: UN - Runeseeker, Oct 29th

[onerthes]

Apologies for the late reply. I do not wish to discuss 'why' I did not until November. Please respect that, Reaper.

I will fetch a bottle of cheap vodka for others to drink.
I will be lurking in a corner, away from everyone.
I will not be bringing food. Nobody needs that.

Also, yes. I remember your name. I'm working on the rest. Your faces may help.

Text;

[no_reload]

Oh this will be good when you get around to the story. I hope we sit at a bar not looking at each other and fill out the awkward quota while staring at a fake fire place.

Sounds like you'll be the life of the party. Don't stand in my corner or I'll throw you to the party-goers.

Address is: 301 Clover Lane

[onerthes]

You're enjoying yourself I see. I don't currently remember how it happened, so there's not much to tell. I'm hoping the things I'm using will help. At least I'm getting pieces back.

Thank you. I definitely did not remember that.

[no_reload]

Don't forget to lean on certain people. Some are more willing to divulge information than others. Also, use the FEAR archives.

I figured as much.

[onerthes]

If it has anything to do with people turning into monsters and the hellscape that is the town outside? I doubt it. But yes. There will be a lot of leaning.

I am using something I created before I died. A mirror with a memory of me. Susan gave it to me. She's a very good girl. I was told to tell her that. When I do not feel like a giant punched me in the gut, I will get to the archives.

[no_reload]

That's fairly normal for this time of year, so I wouldn't be too concerned about it. Halloween is on the 31st, and it's the best holiday of the year.

You'd think with an intelligent mind-blowing chicken at your disposal, you'd be harder to kill.

[onerthes]

We can talk about my death when I remember it. The memory of me already chastised me enough. Susan was here, however, so I doubt she came with.

There is a note somewhere. "You are not allowed to speak about holidays" it reads. It says you're responsible. What is this all about?

[Something something. Fat men in red suits. Home invasions. Thefts of cookies. Sacrifices of trees. Bribery with presents. Angelic choirs defeaning people. Telling children all of this.

...

Oh, and babbling about flying infants with murder bows.]

[no_reload]

Remember, at a bar while not looking at each other and being awkward but with a fake fire place. Fake flames and everything. It will really set the mood well.

You ruined Christmas for some poor soul. You made a time of apparent joy turn into a violent home invasion and robbery with voyeurism.

[onerthes]

[She privately maintained that it was an accurate description. She'd add 'enslavement of elves and wildlife' to the list of nefarious deeds this year.]

Yes, yes. I will remember. Candlelight, fireplaces and talk of death. Wonderful evening. I don't even remember what this Christmas is. So, I can safely say it won't be a problem tonight.

[Have to forgive that shortness. She was feeling awful right there.]

[no_reload]

Don't forget to drink lots of soup, wear fuzzy slippers and feel plenty sorry for yourself.

See you at the party. If you don't show up, I'm coming to find you.