TLV: IC Inbox

[omar]

IC Inbox
[voice | video | text]

Comments

voice

[rickitikitarr]

I'm having the worst fucking night, darling, tell me something nice?

voice

[omar]

[A moment of quiet as he thinks. That's not something he has a snappy answer ready for.]

You ever do NYC?

voice

[rickitikitarr]

I've never been anywhere in America.

[He admits, softly.]

voice

[omar]

Really.

Gonna have to fix that, at some point.

During the What Life Has Torn Asunder flood

[formerself]

[Eggsy spends a really fucking long time debating whether to bring up their mutual friend turned shithead Harry Hart clone, but eventually he comes to the conclusion that either: Omar doesn't know who Bill Haydon is, and Eggsy can keep his warning-off fairly obtuse, or he does know, and then...well.]

you talk to him?

[omar]

[Omar is never using his communicator again, he thinks. Or at least as little as possible. He'd been drawing a distinction between text and voice or video, had thought the latter two at least weren't quite as bad, but Haydon's breezy knowledge of what seems like everything he and Ricki have ever said to each other over the network -- and never once in text -- has completely cured him of that.

Which means this is all Eggsy gets:]

Where are you?

[formerself]

[For basically the same reason, this would have been his next question anyway.]

library. 1st study room on the right.

[omar]

[The funny thing is, he's been considering the exact same thing. He's not entirely sure what Eggsy knows, about either him and Ricki or about Bill Haydon, but he figures he's the most likely after Anya to know anything at all, and he knows by both report and observation that the skills he's seen in Eggsy probably weren't limited to the breach.

So he doesn't say -- write -- another word, but Eggsy probably won't be surprised to see him slip in the door to the study room not long after. He sits close, voice low, and asks without preamble:]

You mean our visitor or the new employee?

[But Guillam honestly hadn't seemed too bad. It's Haydon he wants to talk about.]

also during the VIP event

[rickitikitarr]

God damn it will you get back here? Fuck off, McNulty, don't answer this, I'm leaving a message.

[thefuckdidido]

Look, far be it for me to interrupt, especially after being asked so politely not to, but do you need a hand with anything?

[rickitikitarr]

No, no, everything's fine.

[thefuckdidido]

You're sure? They still let me have a gun up here, for some fucking reason.

immediately after the event

[omar]

[Well, he left Ricki to go off after Haydon and came back three and a half days later to this.

There's some swearing involved in his immediate response, but he keeps that part of it off the line.]

I'm here, baby, I'm here. What happened?

immediately after the event

[rickitikitarr]

I'm fine. Check the network, you're paired.

[omar]

I'm--? Oh.

[He scrolls through quickly, blinks when he gets to it. Well, then.]

'Chu get me all riled up for like that, man? Had me worried.

[And because he's still looking through, and because part two of what Ricki said is catching up with him, his brows lift high.]

'Ayo, Ricki, am I seeing this right, or was y'all really getting tight with Jimmy McNulty?

text

[rickitikitarr]

Omar-

[After this he has to think about a hundred things to say.]

I'm in zero and I don't know how long I'll be here. Can't talk out loud, the kid I got put in here for is in the next cell.

text

[omar]

[There's a short pause on Omar's end out of sheer frustration: he doesn't want to use the network for anything important anymore, and he's always hated texting most of all, but there doesn't seem to be much else in the way of options.]

What happened?

[He thinks about going down to Zero himself. There are a few wardens who like him now, one or two who might let him in... He's already on his feet and moving for the stairs when it occurs to him that if they can't even talk, his swooping in won't solve much of anything, but he heads down towards Level Eight anyway.]

Re: text

[rickitikitarr]

someone stepped up into my space and i

potentially

overreacted.

with a butterknife in the face.

text

[omar]

[Another very brief pause, for a very different reason.]

A butter knife.

What exactly did you do with that to land yourself down there?

voice

[rickitikitarr]

[Some time after this, Ricki does get in touch with him. It is predictably very, very late at night. His voice comes down the line, soft as ever.]

I've started finding your chalk. I stormed off, mad as could be, and then there you were.

[He lights a cigarette, takes a measured breath, and lets it out. Asks, belatedly;]

You up?

voice

[omar]

I'm here.

[He sleeps better than Ricki does, and some nights more regularly, but this isn't one of them. Not that he's been waiting, specifically -- he'd just happened to decide to stay up reading. Not that he needed to wait, not when he knew Ricki would be the one to cave first. Omar doesn't cave. It's just not him.

And if all that is bordering on untruth --- or stepping baldly over the line -- well, it doesn't matter now, right? He lets out a silent sigh and settles down a little, the smile creeping into his voice as the knot in his chest unwinds.]

What'd I say? That little bit of protest up by the mess?

voice

[rickitikitarr]

That's the one.

[His voice gets a little tighter, by contrast. He waits a beat, then admits;]

I don't want to argue, but there's stuff I need off my chest.

backdated to just after the January exorcism

[rickitikitarr]

Ricki doesn't bother with the communicator. He just staggers across the hall, leans into his doorframe, and raps frantically.

It has been a weird day, honestly.

[omar]

He opens, of course, squinting right across the hall once he's assessed that Ricki doesn't appear to be dying on his doorstep.

"Y'all figured out what was going on in there?" Too many cooks, he'd figured on this one; he has absolutely nothing to offer in the area of ghost hunting, and only some amount and change more in the area of what crazy things might be in Ricki's room. For once in his life, he'd hung back.

[rickitikitarr]

"Funny story, that. Where did you get my Christmas present?"

Ricki wonders, giving him a kiss on the cheek before heading for the bed, to fall into it.