IC Inbox

[gorobo]

Hello there! It looks like I'm currently unavailable, so please call back later, or leave a voicemail after the tone. If it is truly urgent, please message me at (XXX) - XXX - XXXX.
Thank you, and have a nice day!

You have this number, so feel free to leave a message. 

(OOC: Inbox is open for messages, calls, and general interactions. Just specify which one it is!)

Comments

[pancakeboy]

[His lips purse, reading. Because that's what it comes down to in the end, doesn't it, a lot of it? What is he, truly, other than the weapon he made of himself? What can he do, other than what he does? To say "anything" is to miss the point.]

You're not wrong. And like I said, it is your choice in the end. But my argument is on the nature of justice, not our place in society. Society would rightly view both of us as monsters. Justice should be clearer-minded, or it's not justice.

This is getting more personal by the minute.

[gorobo]

Of course. There's no use entrusting justice to society, not as it is, anyway.

A little too personal. In the end, we both know what must be done.

_{[No use arguing over something they mostly agree on, anyway.]}

[pancakeboy]

That we do.

I'll see you at the Palace tomorrow.

[Aware of Falcon's nature, he doesn't say "bring popcorn"—but he thinks it. And, as he sets down his phone, a voice he can't hear sounds in a distant place, muffled by the shelves of ledgers on the walls. Seeker, rank two. That was a little fast. Faster than usual.

Of course it was, chuckles the old man's voice. He's learning.]

[gorobo]

Of course. See you tomorrow.

<sub>[Somewhere outside of Falcon's perception, a girl's voice hums.

The Wanderer, rank two.]</sub>