crowncitizen | IC Inbox

From:

[Now, what could this be?]

Serah Argentum? I'm Myrobalan Shivana; we're in the rifts project together and I don't believe we've spoken before. D'you have a moment?

From:

rowancrowned

Good evening, Serrah Argentum. I know we have yet to formally meet. I am Thranduil, the head of the Research division here in Kirkwall.

[ he calls at an hour fairly soon after the Gallows mess would have closed for the evening. his tone is polite, perfunctory. ]

This is not a social call, but rather one under the purview of Research. Would you mind describing, as best you are able, whatever you were doing shortly before you arrived in Thedas?

[ pause, shuffling of paper. ]

I am seeking to gather information about Rifters. As the Inquisition has stopped conducting formal interviews upon arrival, we do not have much documentation on the phenomenon for those of us who have arrived more recently. You are not obligated to answer, and are quite free to refuse.

From:

sulena

( don't be embarrassing, don't be embarrassing, don't be— )

Prompto, hello! It's Sao— ( and then a clatter as her crystal falls to the ground and she scrambles to pick it back up before something worst happened. maker, please just end her suffering. ) S-sorry! It's.. um, it's Saoirse, I'm sorry this is so sudden but I had a request to make if you had time to listen.

From:

dashing

Serah Argentum. I hope the winter chill has not been treating you poorly - is this a bad time?

From:

sulena

( these past two months or so have been rough which is a terrible way to begin a relationship. perhaps that is why (once the illnesses are over and the blood magic has ceased) that she contacts Prompto while still recovering from her own injuries. )

Are you busy?

From:

extraverse

[Somehow Ignis has tea. It's not as good as coffee, of course, but it will do. He brings some over to Prompto, touching the blonde lightly on the shoulder so he knows exactly where he is, and then settles down with his own cup.]

I realize that I have yet to keep my promise to tell you what happened back home. If you've the time, I'd like to discuss it now.

From:

tagartist

[ She. Hates. Cold. It was ironic, considering that Oregon isn't exactly the warmest state, but she always dreamed of living in California - southern California, where there were no seasons and, most importantly, there was no. Fucking. Snow.

Grumpy as she was, it was never fun to be bitchy alone; so when she spots Prompto, one of the few familiar faces on this stupid trip, she's going to plop right down next to him, possibly closer than necessary, and pulling her beanie down a little more tightly on her head. ]

I'm filing a complaint, this is ridiculous. { A COMPLAINT WITH WHO, she does not know, but she'll make one, dammit. ]

From:

aceso

Hello, Prompto? This is Christine. The one who took Church's portrait to him?

[ She feels she needs that included if he might not remember her. ]

I have a question for you, if you have the time?

From:

sulena

( she realizes, mid-stride, that perhaps she should have contacted prompto beforehand to let him now that she had returned to kirkwall. every since she left the group's company following their return from the anderfels, they have talked daily though it did little to help the pang of loneliness in her heart whenever she heard his voice. it made her realize that telling him that she missed him seemed like a horrible understatement...

but in the aftermath of the newest news from the negotiations, saoirse could not help but hurry her return back from starkhaven. it's later in the evening when she finally arrives back in the city, hurrying back into the gallows with a first intent of heading to bed but as she climbs the stairs of the former mage tower, she cannot help the detour she makes to a familiar door.

again, she probably should have sent a message ahead but finally summons up enough courage to knock and hope that he was still awake. )

From:

misdirection_hex

[A brief message in a spidery but well-practiced hand has found its way into the hands of everyone in the newly-rechristened Hostile Powers project. None of this newfangled magical book business.]

In light of recent events abroad, their ongoing implications, and the necessary narrowing of our focus as a project, your input is requested at a project-wide conference that will be held via crystal at eight o'clock Tuesday evening.

Please let me know if you are unable to listen in. Minutes will be made available to those who cannot.

--Enchanter Vandelin, Assistant Project Leader

From:

faithlikeaseed

The Inquisition rumor mill has doubtless been making grist of the mission to the Abbey on the White Cliffs; there's enough horror and derring-do and blood in it for juicy gossip. (To say nothing of the actual miracle healing that's supposed to have happened to one of the team's members--that blind elf, you know the one--)

Myr, for his part, has been keeping a low profile in the last few days since returning. In truth, he still doesn't know how to sort everything he's seen--and felt, and done--into its proper boxes; he hasn't yet settled his heart and certainly is not ready to speak easily about the miracle. But he's an inkling he does owe his friends in the Inquisition an explanation of what had happened, and while he doesn't know all their faces to go looking for them--there's some he can.

Prompto, for one, since he'd seen the younger rifter when the grief demon pulled them into the Fade in the Anderfels. Though whether anyone looked in the Fade like themselves or how he imagined them to look is--up to debate, and that's the thought in the back of his head that keeps his tone just a little tentative when he comes looking for his friend and-- thinks he finds him.

"Prompto?"