IC Contact Post [audio/text]

[othersdie]

You have failed to reach Justin Pendleton.  Please leave your name, contact information, and query after the tone.

[beep]

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[voice]

[deadly_legacy]

Hi, Justin? Are you there?

[voice]

[othersdie]

Hello, Euphie.

[voice]

[deadly_legacy]

Hi. I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time. I just wanted to apologize for yesterday.

[voice]

[othersdie]

No, it's fine. You were cursed yesterday.

[voice]

[deadly_legacy]

Yes. Judging from what little I looked at on the network it seems like many people were. I know we can't control curses. I just wanted you to know I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable.

[voice]

[othersdie]

Oh. No, there were--some people were wearing much less. A few weren't wearing anything.

[voice]

[deadly_legacy]

I'm glad I didn't go so far.

It was nice of you to warn people in your posting that day. [She had gone back to see that.]

[voice]

[othersdie]

It was too late to help most people. The network--but you looked at it.

[beat]

I'm sorry about yesterday, too.

[object]

[had_not_lived]

[Just a simple book, left leaning against Justin's bedroom door.]

[orangetoughguy]

[It's daytime on a weekday so the police station ought to be open right? Of course if they have an official watch schedule he also times his appearance close to whenever the place might be the least crowded. Freddy's determined to actually finally truly do this. He's been avoiding his badge for almost two years under the guide of being undercover indefinitely. He blew that just last month so now there's nothing left to lose. However he manages to do it, he's got the time to speak to one Justin Pendleton face to face. Freddy sure doesn't look like your typical cop, what with his floppy dirty blonde hair, jeans, flannel shirt, and smaller than average frame. That's why he doesn't introduce himself as a cop looking for a job to the front desk, as far as they know he's just a guy seeking information. Unless Justin knows better.]

[othersdie]

[Justin is always at the police station now that Dean's gone (not that he wasn't there frequently before). There's paperwork to be done. A lot of paperwork. And, of course, the whole system needs to be reworked. Dean wasn't one for organization; Justin has inherited a mess that he never wanted.

Or deserved, what with the being-a-murderer thing. Maybe this was the City's way of making him pay.

He looks up at Freddy, removing his reading glasses. The station doesn't get a lot of walk-ins.]

Can I help you?

[orangetoughguy]

[Is there a place where Freddy can sit? If there is he's taking it. If there isn't he might have to make space for himself. Fortunately Orange doesn't take up much space.]

Yeah, I think so. [Even though you look hella young, kid. That's okay, Freddy was barely 21 when he climbed into his first patrol car.] Who does the recruiting around here?

[othersdie]

[Why yes, there happens to be a moderately uncomfortable wooden chair just off to the side. It might creak a little, but it won't fall apart. Yet. Probably.

And hey, Justin is probably twenty-something if you count the years he's been dead.]

I do. You'd like to join the police force?

[orangetoughguy]

I have an intent to join if you and I believe this department's a good fit.

[Squeaky wooden chair it is, unfortunately. His eyes are scanning the area for an ash tray because in Freddy's day smoking in the station is a-okay and he is definitely a smoker. He smells like one, not a lot, but there's an undercurrent of Marlboro Gold to his clothes.]

[othersdie]

[Ah, now Freddy has Justin's full attention. He sets whatever he was working on aside.]

If you can do as you're asked, refrain from going on homicidal rampages, and have a skill or knowledge to contribute, I'd believe you'd be a good fit.

[As a former friend of an avid smoker, Justin manages to guess what the potential volunteer is looking for. He nods to a table a few feet away where an ashtray sits next to a pile of of outgoing paperwork.]

What do you need to know to determine if you'd work here?

[orangetoughguy]

[The ashtray from a few feet away is now a few inches away as Freddy takes a cigarette out to light up.]

Is that all you need? I mean...do you have guys specializing? You know, homicide, vice, gang units...

[This may or may not be his subtle (not subtle) way of feeling his options for being out of uniform. Once you've been a plainclothes you just never want to go back in it except for being on the make. Of course it's not like he's seen a whole fleet of patrol officers combing the City either.]

[othersdie]

[Justin makes no objections to smoking. He does, however, give Freddy A Look that is difficult to interpret.]

We barely have functional departments. If you join, you do what you can.

[Which isn't quite like saying, "Due to turnover rates, nonexistent funding, and a force of approximately one-hundred in a city that requires a force of three-thousand, we can't be picky," but it's close.

Freddy won't see many uniformed officers. Some of the beat cops and old-timers wear them, but they're not mandatory. Justin has never worn one.]

Pipers piping...

[justamessenger]

[Just because it is getting to Christmas, and Justin seems like he appreciates something a little old fashioned, Dulcie sends him this one..]

[had_not_lived]

[Do you hear that quiet tapping on your door, Justin? You might mistake it for the cat, except it's a bit too persistent. And, okay, maybe a bit too loud. And if you don't answer for a moment, Neil will quietly call out:]

Hey, Justin?

[othersdie]

[He ignores the knocking until it turns into talking. Knocks can be disregarded, but it's very rude to ignore talking. Justin puts his journal down and opens the door.]

Hi, Neil. Is something wrong?

[had_not_lived]

Not at all.

[And he smiles, though truth be told he looks a little on edge. Not unhappy, just antsy. Which, in all fairness, is not entirely out of the ordinary for Neil; he's often got too much energy to sit still.]

Can I come in? I wanted to ask you-- something. [Not a favor, just. Something.]

[othersdie]

[Normal jumpiness or not, Justin prepares himself for unpleasant news of some kind. Not that his friends aren't allowed to talk to him except when there's news to relay, but still. Neil and Todd are usually very considerate when it comes to leaving Justin alone.]

Sure. [He gestures for Neil to take a seat on the edge of the bed and sits in his desk chair.]

[had_not_lived]

[Well, he's half right, on the news front, and unpleasantness is in the eye of the beholder. Which is why Neil's a little jumpy; there are things one doesn't talk about, and from time to time things come to pass that necessitate... well, talking about them.]

If you want to say no... it's okay, but. [He takes a breath. Starts again. Manages somehow not to look at his feet.] This is in strictest confidence, all right?

[othersdie]

[Or not. Not talking about things can be excellent. Really.]

Of course.

[had_not_lived]

[Not talking about things is, in general, infinitely preferable. But there comes a time, Justin. There comes a time.]

For Christmas-- I had this idea, for Todd, and I was talking to Rosella about it and.

[Here his composure fails a bit. Neil grins with simple, embarrassed brilliance, coloring noticeably. It's a pleasant kind of embarrassment, as much as any embarrassment can be. Out loud it all sounds ridiculous, like little kids playing house.]

On Christmas morning-- if you're not busy, if you want to come-- I'm asking Todd to marry me. Not in a church or anything-- nothing big, [or legal, but what is legal here?] it'll be me and Todd and Rosella, is all. And I'd like you to come, too.