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| A concerned message [All Agu Contacts]; The night of Zippo Run... | |
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| Topic Started: Wednesday, 28. May 2014, 03:14 (392 Views) | |
| Cid | Wednesday, 28. May 2014, 03:14 Post #1 |
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Raise the retirement age?
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First he tried calling Sawyer, of course. But no one picked up. Agustin almost threw his phone off the building in rage. WHY!? He didn't know what was happening. Him getting such an odd message, in desperation it seemed... He had to do something! What could he do? Run to Sawyer's place? Was there time for that? Who the fuck else could he possibly tell? Everyone. Mass text was the answer. It's not like anyone had any liking for that Blackwood fucker. Someone would help. There was no reward in the Malkavian's mind. Just anger. Anger for whoever was being hurt, and anger for the hurt that bled through to him. To: Everyone got a message. gideon lockwood is blackwood. somebody do something. It was hastily typed up with the force of his unnaturally brought about emotion. He swore he cracked the touch screen in the actions. The text should reach, hrm... Who? A couple friends, at least. Someone had to be able to get it to the right people. Now, just, to wait... |
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| Jeremy Starling | Wednesday, 28. May 2014, 12:11 Post #2 |
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Seneschal of London
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Jeremy also got that message, and it made him confused and worried. He wrote back: text to Agustin Then he sent a message to Jhael. text to Jhael Gideon Lockwood was a Ventrue. So it wouldn't be very nice if he really was Blackwood... But if it really was him then he should be caught and punished. |
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| Dove | Wednesday, 28. May 2014, 13:08 Post #3 |
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Tramp
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So tonight was the night. The night. It was all going down, not that Dove was privy to the details beyond the basics, which, made sense. The more people who knew, the more chance there was someone might let something important slip, and when one of those someones was a chatty ghoul who had trouble keeping his trap shut, well... Dove had fussed and fretted and fidgeted until finally declaring that he was going out to get a milkshake and that he would be right back. Standing in the queue at McDonald's and staring vacantly ahead, Dove's planned strawberry diversion was undercut by another. He read the text and then made a dash for the entrance, knocking into people in his hurry to get out. Too many people, too many ears. He couldn't just ring and get details. Only one word in the short message had any meaning to him. Blackwood. Text to Mr. Agustin. "Fuck!" The moment he hit send he knew that was a dumb reply. Who was Gideon Lockwood? He was Blackwood, duh! That wasn't what he'd meant, but he didn't have time to mess about correcting himself. Text to Dat Lioness. Apart from stand outside McDonald's looking like he was about to faint. |
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We don't have to wait till the morning, the Sun will never go down. And we will be this way forever. Dove stuff! | |
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| Cid | Friday, 30. May 2014, 02:01 Post #4 |
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Raise the retirement age?
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Fuck. Agustin had been scolded for potentially Masquerade endangering texts before. How was he supposed to work this shit out on a regular cell phone? The frustration and building anxiety put his mind on overdrive. Just. Fucking. Respond to the texts, for now. Kindred know the deal with vague speak. Cautious, but not too fucking foggy. His friends ain't idiots. He hoped. Those government surveillance assholes look for special words, right? As long as he didn't use certain words, everything should be perfectly fine. @BlueBird (Jeremy) the cobweb. i think. you know my 'group' stuff, right? whoever sent it is in trouble, too @Dove i have no fucking clue. an alias, i guess. whoever he is, he's the blackwood guy Hopefully, stuff would get through soon enough and Agustin could stop having whatever kind of fucking breakdown or connection to fuck all whatever this was. |
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| Dove | Saturday, 31. May 2014, 19:38 Post #5 |
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Tramp
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The moment of heart-pounding dizziness passed and the phone in his hand buzzed for attention. Mr. Agustin again. It wasn't so surprising there was no reply from Ms Leo considering he'd left her up to her ears in soapy water. While Dove had sat just out of sight and fidgeted, Leo had done a grand job of keeping herself chilled out, giving nothing more than an 'mhm' to the announcement of the important milkshake run and most of the other drivel he'd come out with that night. She was probably still there - warm, relaxed and covered in bubbles. He read the message quickly and moved away from the throng of pub-turnoutees desperate to get their burger on. Finding a quiet spot he jabbed at the phone screen. Piece of shit was frozen on messaging again when he would risk a call this time. If anybody knew where he could find this fuckstick, Jhael would. If not, the trail would be colder than a dead-guy who needed to be a lot more dead, like right fucking NOW. Months ago, a moment of intense frustration over a text, several texts actually, had seen Dove throw his phone across the room in annoyance. The screen had cracked, but the Nokia had carried on like a trooper only to freeze sometimes when he really needed it not to. Like now. Irritated and in just a bit of a rush, he pressed harder and was rewarded with a quiet snapping noise and a scene of colourful gibberish before the whole screen turned black. It took every ounce of self control Dove had to not launch his dead phone into the the sky with as much force as he could. |
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We don't have to wait till the morning, the Sun will never go down. And we will be this way forever. Dove stuff! | |
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1:21 AM Jul 11