The King lives.

[agoldenchain]

Comments

[agoldenchain]

cant write long

anser ?

[cygnettes]

I thought you'd

He started trying to find out where you were. I can call him. Do you need me to call him?

[agoldenchain]

canakkale going to istanbul

[...]

rivas in israel

[cygnettes]

What should I tell her?

[agoldenchain]

where in israel

not safe here

[cygnettes]

[Fast, hurried scribble.]

I don't know where she lives I'm sorry I must be so hopeless, I'm calling the professor right now

are you okay?

Cygna.

[agoldenchain]

[several long minutes later, as writing with a broken wrist makes putting on a privating ward significantly more difficult than normal]

not hopeless

missed dinner

Rick.

[cygnettes]

[An aborted sentence, then a few minutes' pause while she juggles the phone. Then she's back.]

That's not important.

He didn't pick up, but I'm going to keep trying. I'll get a hold of that man even if it means I have to walk in on him in the bathroom.

Cygna.

[agoldenchain]

[again, several minutes later. The writing is a little shakier, and there's a fair bit of effort put into each letter]

it is

horrible sight that

Rick.

[cygnettes]

Stop jok   Stop writing, Jones. Go do what you have to.

Cygna.

[agoldenchain]

[a noticeably longer pause]

right

be home soon

Rick.

[cygnettes]

[...]

When you get back, we can talk as long as we like. Without messing up your hurt hand. Okay?

Cygna.

[agoldenchain]

leave a light in a window for me eh

Rick.

[cygnettes]

Yes, your majesty.

Cygna.

[agoldenchain]

garters for me this time

Rick.

[cygnettes]

[Pause for laughter and blushing. If she'd been drinking tea, it'd be all over the pages.]

It depends on how well you tell the story of what in the world happened to you.