Participants:
| Scene Title | Crossing Phonelines |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Ethan speaks to Munin, and Helena speaks to Cat. |
| Date | December 10, 2008 |
Various Undisclosed Locations
A half hour passes. A time for most people is very short, though this stretch of time might seem quite long to some. Some that would be rushing across town from one hideout to another. Finally at the end of a half hour. Munin's cellphone rings again.
Ring, ring.
Ring, ring.
Munin doesn't immediately raise the phone to her ear. Instead, she spends several moments rubbing her thumb along one of its curved edges, mustering the courage she needs to lend strength to her voice. When she does slide her thumb across the send button and bring the phone up to the space between her chin and shoulder, her words come out in the form of a low, throaty croak — more frog than girl. It's been a long week. "Hello?"
Cross-legged on the floor, his jacket turned up around his stubbly jaw and meltwater still dark on the cuff of his pant leg, Teo doesn't look like whatever it is he's supposed to be. Other than listening. That, he has covered pretty well, seated a foot from Munin's side and with a tension around his frame that implies he's ready to intervene, even if — and Phoenix probably already knows this, much to the chagrin of several of them — he doesn't think he'll have to.
"Princess.." Ethan greets, his tone much more gentle than it was when he was speaking to Helena before. "Princess," he repeats, "'Ow is your little vacation?"
Helena has an earpiece in her ear, but for some reason, she's elected to stay outside of Eileen's cell. She'll just listen quietly for the present.
Teo and Munin have been over the script, however briefly. She closes her eyes, breathes out a long sigh through her nostrils. How was this supposed to go again? "I'm a little banged up." There's no use lying — Ethan would know, and then there would be no telling what he might do. "But it's been worse. They aren't— hurting me. Don't do anything stupid, okay?"
"Princess, 'ave you ever known me to do anything stupid? I'll 'ave you 'ome soon love. Be sure to bring me and your uncle the Priest some souveniers, you 'ear love?" A little chuckle, seemingly trying to lighten the mood. "Are you alright love, 'ave they been feedin' ya? You have fresh clothes, don't you?" Formalities. The main reason for this call has already been delivered, the rest is just formalities..
"Ethan." If Munin's eyes made any noise when they rolled around in her skull, the man on the other end of the line would almost certainly be able to hear it. She swallows, hard, and rakes her teeth across her lower lip. Focus. "I'm fucking serious. Don't try to pull any of your bullshit over on these people. When am I coming home?"
Teo's sixth sense is tingling. Means somebody behind that observation is coming to the chilling realization that he's an idiot. He switches an eye over to stare at it a moment, before blinking once, hard, and returning his gaze to Munin, though his attention had never actually left.
"You're 'urtin my feelings, love. You think I would jepordize your 'ealth? You'll come 'ome tomorrow. I know they're fucking listening, and if they aint, they outta be. So 'ere it is. 'ave their people, and by people I mean three besides you. Any more than that, and there's 'ell to pay. Even spooks. 'ave them be in China Town at 1:00 tomorrow afternoon, 'ave each of them wearing a 'oody. Red, Blue, and white. I will contact with the rest of the details… You'll be 'ome safe soon, lovely. I promise."
Munin lowers the phone and pushes the end call button, unable to bring herself to bid Ethan farewall. Just as Phoenix has no real reason to believe she'll follow through on her end of the bargain, the only thing she has to cling onto is her faith in Teo. Placing the phone in her lap, she turns her gaze on him, her expression hollow. "Did your people get all that?"
For all the precautions that have been taken, there's probably a lot of fairly visible reasons Munin and Teo shouldn't trust each other, either. He still looks a shade of anemic, and her nose botched by the edge of a bedpost; of anyone, these two. Still, he takes the phone with carefully, slowly insistent fingers, careful not to touch the girl carrying it, and nods his head once. "I think so." A quaver-beat. Then, oddly, "Grazie." His cheek twitches: a not-smile. He picks himself up.
Ring, ring.
Ring, ring.
A dark room. Cat has been separated from Danielle temporarily in God knows where they are by now. "Make it quick." Come the raspy instructions from the Brit as he lowers the phone to her ear. "It's 'elena Dean. Speak." He commands as if the woman was a dog and he was having her do a new trick.
"Helena," Cat says simply when instructed to speak. Her voice sounds calm enough, though a bit hollow.
"Cat," the young woman's voice comes on. "I am so, so sorry." Helena can tell she's on speaker phone. "Is Dani alright?"
"She's alive," Cat answers. "So am I." The tone to her voice stays even, the stoicism she's displayed on tap again for this activity.
"I'll see you soon, Cat." Helena's voice settles down, becomes calm. "That's a promise."
"Thank you," the Ivy Leaguer answers simply.
 December 10th: Thirty Minutes or Less |
 December 10th: There Was No Meeting |