IC Contact Post [for savetheearth]

[elfstoned]

Please specify whether it's text, voice or video and the date your message is left!


PERSONAL CELL PHONE: XXX-272-4076

"Aaron Strider. Leave a message."



CLINIC PHONE: XXX-353-7727

"LSR Clinic. Hours are 8AM-10PM weekdays, 10AM-10PM Saturday and Sunday. If this is an emergency, hang up and call 911, or XXX-272-4076. Otherwise, leave your number and a message and your call will be returned tomorrow."

AS OF 2-28-2015, the only way to contact Aaron is through the Network.


NETWORK NUMBER: 43254644263

Comments

Handwritten forever; also, the reply is hours and hours later

[elfstoned]

I can. How much did you hear about his resignation?

[espigeonage]

[He's glad to see this. You're worrying him.]

Not much. When I came by and visited that time I asked how he was, Rachel just made a face and said beats me. I really only talk much to her anymore and she doesn't gossip.

[elfstoned]

When it all went public, I made it clear what our policy was regarding individuals with numbers, and that if anyone disagreed, they could find work elsewhere. You can guess what happened.

[espigeonage]

Damn. I expected some turnover but I thought mostly they'd just leave it at leaving and passive aggressive bits on Twitter. He made a scene?

[elfstoned]

Not publicly. He left quietly enough. But you know what they say - it's always the quiet ones who tell the press you're a murderer.

[espigeonage]

Clearly I didn't know him like I thought. Shit.

I saw the cops around your house. Do you have a place to go? It's cold out there for skinny people.

[elfstoned]

There are plenty of places to go. I'll be scarce for a while, until it cools down and another scandal breaks.

[espigeonage]

Do you have one, though?

Because I know a safehouse mostly surrounded by forest. That's where I went when mafia idiots were stalking me and tore up my apartment, it's where I went when I came back. No one is the wiser. Only drawback is too many cats. [...it sounds trivial but it's not, really, he's had infections from being scratched or bitten.]

If not there, I can break into just about anything I want. Locks take ten seconds. Computer security takes sixty. I bet we can figure out if a place isn't used.

Let me help you out.

[elfstoned]

[A long pause.

You can practically see him thinking it over, except you can't because you don't know just how hobo-chic he looks right now.]

Where is this safehouse?

[espigeonage]

It's actually in the rich-people-in-the-woods area! That's what I call it anyway. Kind of a ways from the center of town but isolation is the idea I think.

The head of this company called Stark Industries built this place, got numbers, skedaddled, and left his godson living there. The godson got numbers, offered the place as a safehouse, and lost them. He likes cats, and he's out of town for three weeks.

There's a pretty good security system, and I have it wrapped around my little finger. Metaphorically. But seriously, I can turn it off, or tell it that anyone who shows up there belongs there, so it lets them in whenever they show. I've done it before.

[elfstoned]

I know the neighborhood.

Address?

[espigeonage]

How do I know your evil twin won't see this? I saw him on the network a while ago, I know he exists.

[elfstoned]

Fair point.

Will I have to come get it from you in person?

[espigeonage]

And what a piece of work he is.

I could leave the address out somewhere if you thought you could get to it before anyone else, if you don't want to talk to me. Though, I will be watching.

want to turn this to action? I'm down to thread it

[elfstoned]

Bring it to Freedom Park.

[Action]

[espigeonage]

Gotcha. No veren~☆

[actually the star was eight-pointed and circled. Julien is a nerd too.

Anyway, his stealth talent seems to work well when he's in the air. On this rare sunny day his shadow can be seen flickering and racing as he circles over the park in a long and leisurely descent, passing closer and closer to an old picnic bench until he can go into a long and shallow dive that ends as he thumps down on it.

...and it cracks loudly as the weathered rot-eaten boards of the table give way. Julien leaps back, backwings gracefully, lands on the ground, and his tail thrashes.]

Seriously?

[Action] forever

[elfstoned]

Well, you did make it easy to find you.

[Where was he a second ago? You're not sure. It's like he popped out of the goddamn ground, and he's folding up some kind of gray-green cloth and sticking it in a bag. Aaron is -- is it Aaron? The voice is the same, but deeper and rougher. That, though, could just be thanks to a night spent out-of-doors. His clothes are dirty -- not horrendously filthy, not yet, but they're the clothes of someone who's spent more than 24 hours outdoors. Aaron Strider has never looked more homeless, and that's saying a lot.

He pulls down the hood of his jacket.

But he only looks like Aaron Strider if you know to look for him. Aaron is there in the jaw, the eyes and the nose, the chin and the cheekbones, but the whole face looks wilder. The long, lank hair and the week's worth of stubble has a lot to do with it -- and so does the fact that he clearly hasn't slept much -- but his whole face looks sharper, more intense. He looks weather-beaten in a way Aaron never did, and his hair is black now, streaked with gray. He's also about six inches taller.

This is the man that frightened a poor provincial town, the face that launched a thousand nicknames. You wouldn't want to see him coming toward you in an alley.]

[espigeonage]

[It's rare for Julien to miss seeing something when he was this close. He startles, feet shifting to a more stable stance, head drawing back and up, feathers hackling and bristling, pupils flaring and his wings unfolding part of the way to make him seem bigger. In a second or so he's refolded his wings and his feathers slick down close to his body, but he holds everything else, pupils pinning.

Ever since his eyes changed Julien has identified faces in different ways. He can see Aaron in this man's bone structure, but the mapping of blood vessels and skin damage, old injuries and exposure to the sun, they're totally different. Fascinatingly so. It reminds him, actually, of nothing quite so much as his most recent memory, which unfortunately downgrades the intimidation factor a bit.]

-You look like Hiyoko.

[elfstoned]

[His mouth twists in a humorless grin.]

Then I pity Hiyoko.

[espigeonage]

It's not bad. It's how humans are.

[He pauses, blinks. Right. Yes.]

In the dystopian future where humans all live in the wilderness and get attacked by animals a lot.

Point is, hardiness and good blood flow. I think.

[elfstoned]

You might be the first person ever to compliment Aragorn on his blood flow.

[espigeonage]

Oh, probably. It's not something normal people see very well. Take it as a compliment! She is or was a wonderful girl.

Galu, by the way. [He tilts his head, draws himself up to be taller.] I didn't know you could do that with the cloak.

[elfstoned]

There is magic to it, I imagine. A patrol car drove right past me.

[espigeonage]

...Must be. Gods and dirt indeed. This is a miserable time to go on the run, I'm sure you've noticed.

[Julien goes and tries to walk a circle around Aaron, like nothing quite so much as a dinosaur.]

What's with you and getting long hair? This looks uh... distinct.

[elfstoned]

[Aaron sighs.]

Where's the safehouse, Julien?

[It's not often that Aaron isn't in the mood to indulge Julien's tangents. It's one of the things Aaron likes about him. Now, though? Aaron looks nothing so much as worn down right now.]