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.

call;

[theprobator]

[if you thought that was a lie, then--]

I've got better things to do than follow him around all day. Maybe he just got sick of looking at you.

call;

[theprobator]

You swear what? Would you avenge him, Ventus?

Don't make me wish I had done something.

call;

[theprobator]

[his pause is brief, but long enough to catch that audible smirk.]

I'll keep that in mind. If someone hasn't killed him already, and the opportunity ever comes up.

call;

[theprobator]

You're a lot of talk, you know that? You and everybody else here.

call;

[theprobator]

That just sounds like an invitation.

call;

[theprobator]

How did that saying go again? "It takes one to know one?"