After reading all the blog posts, I understand that this town is in dire need of help. I have someone with me who is quite capable of search and rescue missions. In fact, he's seen just about any weird scenario you can think of.

He could make a complete sweep of Bell Pointe in less than a couple hours and even get this place mapped out from the air ( Read more... )

This is fucking ridiculous.

[As he listens to it ring, he mutters.]

Where th'fuck are you, Lu?

[Her voice is hard and loud. Hotly annoyed. She's yelling. She's yelling directly into the phone.]

Trees of my ancestors, whatever lout is behind this'll taste the soles of my boots. Getting blasted tired of waking up off on holiday when I ain't packed and I'm not inclined to visit. Well? Speak up, eh? Come out here and face me, you lily-livered

[Voice sounds lost, and yet somehow in total awe ( Read more... )

[There is a mock patience to her voice which, when combined with the arrogant phrasing, makes her sound nothing less than stuck up.]

In light of recent activity with regard to these 'mobile telephones' [This term is clearly technical and needs to be enunciated.] I should like to point out that these devices are very capable of calling select ( Read more... )

Why.

[A pause. It's not a fair question. She clears her throat. It's kind of also a stupid question, and Willow blurts the rest out in a rush.]

Whyisitsnowing?

[So. Dante's pressing numbers. Looks like this time he got yours. He is chewing (noisely) when the line picks up. And he talks with his mouthful. 'Cause he's classy.]

Heya, hotstuff.

[What is this? Your phone's echoing with loud, ominous electronic screeching. For at least a few minutes. Followed by a hushed woman's voice.

Hey, if you listen close enough, that -may- be Gaelic. Maybe.]