[DISCONNECTED] Mailbox [IC]

[a_perfect_end]

[he got it to beep just like a tape-fed answering machine]

Greetings!

Recently-deposed Grid management and complaints department.

You know what they say: if you can't say something nice, lay it on me. Do your thing at the tone!

Comments

-> Library! (action? description-spam, at least)

[a_perfect_end]

[There's a drift of surprise along their connection, his own like an echo, a curl of inquiry: status? (you okay?) because that's important, it's always been important, even with his interest drawn out by the promise of more data and a something, nonspecific.

The windows continue to scroll, text shivering down the wall in amber rivers like night rain in the city.]

You keep bringing me things.

[Statement. Hint of a question--but smiling.]

...You can just bring you, y'know.