voice; 8/16

[eudaimonikos]

[Michael's voice, though he has to raise it to be heard over the ongoing sirens, is casual. Deliberately so, like someone trying to hide how not-casual they feel right now.]

Hey, is there anybody else who's not fighting some kind of war right now? I'd really like to talk to you about...non-war things.

[...]

And if you haven't been to Nastrandir since the sirens started, maybe skip that for now.

Comments

[eudaimonikos]

[yeah see this is why he made all the response convos private]

Oh, you're...the whiskey lady, right? Don't think we've ever talked. Anyway, I live on a different island entirely, and I don't want yours. It's very humid.

[prettypurpleparlor]

[That brings Muffet up short. How... would he know that? Were the invaders spying on them? But of all things to spy on, why pick her brewing alcohol, of all things? And... if she can remember doing it, why can't she remember where she set up her still?]

[There's a brief mental image of somewhere that looks like no place on Nastrandir, but she's never left home. She knows that. Doesn't she?]

[Suddenly flustered and uneasy, she blurts out the first thing that comes to mind:]

No whiskey for invaders.

[She hangs up the call with an audible click.]

[She's going to be so embarrassed about this later.]