[psl] 2015: I've been worrying I will become what I deserve

[firewatcher]

Palmer scrolled through the contacts list on her phone, finally finding the right one. A small, morbid smile sprang to her lips. She'd spoken to the owner of this number earlier tonight--like every night--but it had been a while since she'd last made a social call. What a reason to get back in touch.

Like old times, really, except not really at all.

She glanced back into the dining room. Amity still seemed to be sitting tight—not that she had any way of not doing that, being handcuffed to the chair, ha fucking ha, but at least she was eating, now. Well. For a given value of "eating."

Christ in heaven, this was her life, now.

Well, she already committed to this. No reason to hesitate. She hit the call button.

"Hi, Danielle," she said, not even bothering to disguise the weariness in her voice. "It's me."

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[beyondthisillusion]

Danielle been having A Night. She always knew she was in for fun times when Buckley gave her an assignment in the sewage system, but tonight had definitely taken the cake. She was tired, she was bloody, and she was covered in cryptid viscera. All she wanted to do was get to the local Y and take a hot shower, but it was about an hour before she'd have to go to ground. Probably not enough time.

The caller ID made her groan a little. She didn't get a lot of calls from Palmer at this hour. Which meant there was probably something else slimy that she was going to have to deal with.

Well. Such was her life.

With a sigh, she stepped into an alley. Walking around while covered in goo was one thing. Walking and talking on a cell phone while covered in goo was just a little bit more than she wanted to handle right now.

"Hey," she said, already bracing herself. "Sorry, were you trying to reach me before? I get crap reception in the sewer."