ic contact

[bloodprayer]

⛧
( video / text / voice / action )

Comments

[confiscated]

Michael, right?

It's Tate.

[quickfingers]

[x]

[Here's the thing about anonymous posts and trying to meet up with fellow anonymous people; there's high risk, high reward. Doubly so when you're the Deputy Ambassador of a porter city and have anon comments talking about your dad's previous murder sprees potentially connecting back to your person when you decide to be a fool and try to meet up with a stranger. Who also had a murderous father? At least - well, at least there's a weird forged bond here already. Murderous dads. Fucking great.

Peter's in De Chima faster than even he imagined, dawdling around a pizza joint that's not too far from the porter. He waits to give directions to it, watching the plate glass window from across the street to see who comes and who goes from a park bench. Great thing about super speed is the ability to watch everything go by in slow motion when you want to. Bad thing about super speed is you become an insufferable prick when it comes to waiting.

Fuck. Fuck. He should bail? He should just bail. He's bailing. He's sitting back down. He's filling in the last word on this crossword and rubbing at his eyes as he waits for literally anyone to come by and go inside the dingy mom and pop pizzeria.]

TEXT.

[bragnificent]

[ Reggie's not really sure how good of an idea this is, but-- it kind of feels weird not to reach out? Considering how the two of them left things, that is. Reggie's feelings about it all (not that he even knew what those were before he left) are definitely more complicated now since he's been home and back, but, well. Complicated isn't always bad.

And he won't really know until they interact again, because all he can do otherwise is work off his memories, which are not necessarily reliable given... well, everything. How long it's been for him. How drunk they were. But either way they're friends, right? So. ]

michael hey
its reggie
howve u been

[confiscated]

hey.

where are you.

text

[melodramagic]

[ Salem isn't at all aware of what Sabrina's been up to all day. A small blessing as if the Familiar had found out his witch was about to make contact with their potential assailant from a week ago, he might have chewed her ear off over it the way Aunt Zelda might have.

Maybe it isn't a bad thing necessarily that her aunties aren't here.

Of course she feels like a stone's been dropped in her stomach when she sends him a text, but she has no real way of knowing whether the ghastly face she glimpsed that terrifying night was the boy she met in Reggie's apartment. ]

hi michael! it's sabrina spellman
how are you doing?