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[It takes several moments of staring at the name displayed by the device for it to register. Kisame Hoshigaki. And, even as Itachi's hand tightens and he grips the slim communicator to stare down at those words, he's skeptical.]
Yes.
[He's not one to make excuses.]
Yes.
[He's not one to make excuses.]
[ hello there please pretend this call is being made about a week after she arrives...! ]
Uchiha Itachi.
[ her voice is deep, yet much brighter and less abrasive than it had been at their first encounter. pleasantly awake at the fine hour of one after midnight. she might even have a touch of red wine on her lips.
she adjust quickly, in most aspects. ]
I have questions I'd appreciate your answering. Do return my call as soon as you're able.
Uchiha Itachi.
[ her voice is deep, yet much brighter and less abrasive than it had been at their first encounter. pleasantly awake at the fine hour of one after midnight. she might even have a touch of red wine on her lips.
she adjust quickly, in most aspects. ]
I have questions I'd appreciate your answering. Do return my call as soon as you're able.
[It's an unanticipated message, not unwelcome except he can't quite begin to fathom what Frühling might desire to ask him. Her dark-seeming nature lends to a certain kind of unpredictability.
Itachi holds his device in the palm of his hand for a few minutes, considering her words. And then he flips it over to open a direct connection; it's some hours since she first called (close to six in the morning, as the sun begins its ascent), but perhaps she's still around.]
Yes?
Itachi holds his device in the palm of his hand for a few minutes, considering her words. And then he flips it over to open a direct connection; it's some hours since she first called (close to six in the morning, as the sun begins its ascent), but perhaps she's still around.]
Yes?
[ finally. she'd been growing disappointed. she thought you were more alive at night, but oh well. her assumptions can't always be right. tch. in the interim she's been doing some homework (research on signs and sociology and the now-habitual captive population profiling) while finishing off a whole bottle of vintage all by her fine self. her mood is no longer so chipper, especially in the rise of daylight. though subdued, she sounds a touch curt, as if to say, you've kept me waiting. ]
Powers. The ones given to us by our patron gods. Tell me what you know and if you possess any.
Powers. The ones given to us by our patron gods. Tell me what you know and if you possess any.
[ Shhh, he's been shown the text function ok. And. Emotes. Have a table flip. ]
(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻
(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻
Hey, haha.
Know it's been a while, but just wanted to touch base. Wanna maybe grab a bite, hang out?
Know it's been a while, but just wanted to touch base. Wanna maybe grab a bite, hang out?
[ Well, this is it.
It's been three weeks since the last time she'd worshiped—coincidentally, with Itachi, though she tries not to think about how it isn't much of a coincidence at all—and there's no curse on this stupid island that's going to save her from what she's about to do.
This was always the tricky part, wasn't it? Scrolling through all the names on her device, she couldn't find a single person that she could ask for help—correction: there were many people she could ask for help, but no single person she wanted to ask. Not without causing awkwardness, without pushing the boundaries of friendships, not without opening herself up to weakness or obligation.
Then she alights on Itachi's name, and it occurs to her that he would solve all those problems pretty neatly. No, no—that's a terrible idea. She might not hate him so much anymore, per say, and whatever miniscule amount of anger she holds towards him anymore is muted and tired, but that still doesn't mean she's going to actually seek him out.
Next.
She very briefly contemplates going to a bar to pick someone up—but that's just too pathetic for her to seriously consider, especially when it feels like she's already had enough too-soon hook-ups to last her a lifetime. It's not really her style.
At least Itachi would be the devil she knows, she thinks. And unfortunately, she already knows he won't judge her—or he won't tell her when he's judging her, and that's close enough. He won't ask questions. He doesn't care about her, and if there's anything one needs in an encounter like this, it's for things to not get weird.
(Plus, she can't help reminding herself, he already knows what to do. It would be relatively painless in that regard, at least.)
It's with quickly dawning horror that she realizes she's actually convinced herself to do this, though she ends up pressing call before she can fully process what she's going to say. Or if this is even the best idea at all.
But it's too late now. The other end rings and rings against the furious beating of her heart, and she almost hangs up about four times before she gets to his voicemail message, short and sweet.
Now she really hangs up, panicking a little in spite of herself. If she was lucky, he would never know she called, though she knows it's impossible with caller ID. If she was really lucky, he'd never call her back. ]
It's been three weeks since the last time she'd worshiped—coincidentally, with Itachi, though she tries not to think about how it isn't much of a coincidence at all—and there's no curse on this stupid island that's going to save her from what she's about to do.
This was always the tricky part, wasn't it? Scrolling through all the names on her device, she couldn't find a single person that she could ask for help—correction: there were many people she could ask for help, but no single person she wanted to ask. Not without causing awkwardness, without pushing the boundaries of friendships, not without opening herself up to weakness or obligation.
Then she alights on Itachi's name, and it occurs to her that he would solve all those problems pretty neatly. No, no—that's a terrible idea. She might not hate him so much anymore, per say, and whatever miniscule amount of anger she holds towards him anymore is muted and tired, but that still doesn't mean she's going to actually seek him out.
Next.
She very briefly contemplates going to a bar to pick someone up—but that's just too pathetic for her to seriously consider, especially when it feels like she's already had enough too-soon hook-ups to last her a lifetime. It's not really her style.
At least Itachi would be the devil she knows, she thinks. And unfortunately, she already knows he won't judge her—or he won't tell her when he's judging her, and that's close enough. He won't ask questions. He doesn't care about her, and if there's anything one needs in an encounter like this, it's for things to not get weird.
(Plus, she can't help reminding herself, he already knows what to do. It would be relatively painless in that regard, at least.)
It's with quickly dawning horror that she realizes she's actually convinced herself to do this, though she ends up pressing call before she can fully process what she's going to say. Or if this is even the best idea at all.
But it's too late now. The other end rings and rings against the furious beating of her heart, and she almost hangs up about four times before she gets to his voicemail message, short and sweet.
Now she really hangs up, panicking a little in spite of herself. If she was lucky, he would never know she called, though she knows it's impossible with caller ID. If she was really lucky, he'd never call her back. ]
[As he rarely keeps his device in his pocket, Itachi misses the call.
When he finds it later, he studies the name across the screen for several heartbeats -- 1 missed call: Ino Yamanaka -- and he's not sure what to do. No message, no indication of what she could have wanted. For all he knows, it was a misdial.
But if not, this is something he should address. They haven't spoken since the last incident spurred by the Twelve. The silence wouldn't last, knowing her.
Itachi presses a button, puts the device to his ear, and waits.]
When he finds it later, he studies the name across the screen for several heartbeats -- 1 missed call: Ino Yamanaka -- and he's not sure what to do. No message, no indication of what she could have wanted. For all he knows, it was a misdial.
But if not, this is something he should address. They haven't spoken since the last incident spurred by the Twelve. The silence wouldn't last, knowing her.
Itachi presses a button, puts the device to his ear, and waits.]
[He finds it, fingering the card pinned to his door -- miraculous he was able to find it before the other members of this shared household. Plucking it off, Itachi carries the card into his room and sends a text response to the man in question.]
Thank you, Itsuhito-san.
Thank you, Itsuhito-san.
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