I'm leavin' Wednesday morning for Austria. Then I fly back on Saturday--dependin' on Arsenal's driving, I might actually make the gig. It's at The Crash, in Flange City. D'you know it?
"Never been there. Although it sounds much more fun than the corporate shindig my dad is going to drag me to over the weekend." Parker sighs. "I'm not looking forward to Thanksgiving as much as I was a few weeks ago...."
Well, look, I'll call you if the gig is on, an' you can tell your da one of your friends called with an emergency or whatever. I'm sure with the weird dimensional portals here you can get to Flange in no time. Swerval?
"I'm not denying that it's... different. But he has his reasons." Parker shrugs. "Either way, I think I'll be able to make it. I just wish...." She sighs. "I was supposed to see one of my friends when I was home. Now I don't now where the hell he is, so, that's not happening."
"Pretty much." Parker looked glum. "He called once, but I haven't heard from him in almost a week now, he could be *anywhere*.... Anyway. Yeah. We'll have fun in-- Flange City?"
Don' worry, Parker, I'm sure he's okay. I mean, as long as he doesn' get mixed up with the dealers or, like, prostitutes, what's the worst that could happen? Any friend of yours is sure to have better sense than that.
*pats Parker sympathetically on the back* I know I told you my brother ran away once. We got him back. An' my mum had it rough for a while, but if she'd never run off in the first place she'd never have met my da. All that is meant to be will converge. Or some bollocksy nonsense like that.
Parker grimaces, and rests her head on the counter. "I'll try to believe that. I just wish he would call again. The brat. He sent an email virus to a mutual friend a day or two ago, but that's it." She straightens. "At least he's not back where he was. That counts for a lot. So. Yes. Optimism. Or something."
"No. But he's been too sheltered. I always wanted to get him out of there-- but to somewhere I could keep an eye on him." She shrugs, making a face. "The next time he calls, damnit. I'm getting a phone number and a location."
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1. Drive off causeway onto Highway 1337.
2. Arrive at destination.*
Um. I don't think you'll have any problem findin' the place.
(ooc: The causeway needs a name.)
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[ooc: Hmm. You're very right. Think we could get away with naming it?]
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(ooc: I want it to be the 'someone' Memorial Causeway, for some reason. At the moment I'm leaning toward James T. Kirk.)
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[ooc: Do it! Do it do it do it!]
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(ooc: I did!)
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[ooc: *hee!*]
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So close and yet so far.no subject
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Yep, Flange. Home sweet home.
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virusto a mutual friend a day or two ago, but that's it." She straightens. "At least he's not back where he was. That counts for a lot. So. Yes. Optimism. Or something."no subject
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