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[churnback]

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375 – 3135

Voice — Text

"Go ahead."

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194 - 6275.

[pagings]

[ a couple of days after the fateful near-drowning incident.

does amos remember giving her his number? great question. still, a little out of nowhere, he'll get- ]

It's Karen, btw. :)

[ she's not expecting a response. just so he has her number, now. ]

[churnback]

[ This will be a new thing for him to get used to, people being able to (and maybe actually) sending him messages. They have something like this in his time, of course, just...not on these kinds of devices.

He vaguely remembers flashing his number to her, but for some reason had not expected her to actually reach out. In the reverse, it hadn't occurred to him either, but — now that she's reached out, he thinks it's not a bad thing at all. It takes him a bit to respond, though. ]

Hey. It's Amos :0

[ It's a dumb joke. And possibly even more deadpan than his usual when it's through text like this. 'Course she knows it's him, she reached out. He also realizes the little symbol didn't come through right when he tried to mimic hers. So. ]

:)

[pagings]

[ for karen, it has a lot more to do with making sure the people she keeps contact with the people she meets than any real need to chat. she knows how easy it is to feel isolated, how you can meet someone on the street and go days, weeks, sometimes the rest of your life, without ever seeing them again. it's the reality of new york, and she knows it would be just as easy here.

it's why she thinks about it, even in the aftermath of nearly dying. why, even if it had only been for a brief moment, she'd remembered amos' number. it was still a day, maybe more, maybe even a week or so until she does text him. and part of her doesn't really expect the reply.

so when it comes through, emoji and all, karen is left grinning a little to herself. is it a dumb joke? maybe. but it lands all the same. ]

I just wanted to make sure you had my number!

[ and really, she should leave it there. but karen has always been a little chatty, and this is something that's been on her mind. ]

Though...somewhat weird question.
Did you end up with a bottle of antibiotics in your pocket when you got back to your car?

post sept aftermath

[diametrically]

You hear about the openings at the Scrapyard?

[churnback]

Yeah. Shit's getting busy. You thinking of going down that way?

375 – 0319

[nadine_he_loves]

Hey.

Just thought I'd drop you a line and check in.

Last month got really weird.

[churnback]

Hey. Weird how?

[ It was weird for him, too, is the thing. For...well, a lot of people. But wouldn't have been the same for everyone. What they felt, saw, experienced. ]

some late night/early morning

[carmesi]

i can't sleep
hi amos

[churnback]

hi back
you got good timing

[ Sleep is kind of. Fleeting sometimes. ]

shit on your mind?

084 – 0763, mid-nov.

[chuju]

[ It's not the first time she's messaged Amos about joining her for a drive, but Daisy still hesitates before sending the message. If they had smart phones from her time period, he'd be able to see those little dots giving away her indecision, but she's blissfully safe from that secret being revealed here. ]

have you heard about this "hallowed joyride" thing?

[churnback]

[ He's semi-aware of things going on in Panorama, but he's been spending more time out by the Scrapyard with Cassian recently, so some things just filter in and out, off his radar. Anything that's not a need to know, especially, is disregarded. ]

I haven't. What is it?

[magike]

I ahve a favour to ask.

[churnback]

Go ahead.

text.

[pse]

[ Roughly a week out from Christmas Eve, when a fresh layer of snow is lightly dusting everything and a lull of hibernation is settling over a worn out Panorama. Kimiko's given him a wide berth after the events in his garage; not out of any sort of sourness, but the conclusion it might be better if they're not seen together for a spell. But the festive season settles into her bones eventually, and — ]

Hey.
You busy? I have something to give you.
Want to grab a drink?

It's Kimiko.

[ And... something. Maybe the snow is making her a bit syrupy, a bit too thoughtful. Her head's on a swivel; she needs it on straight. ]

[churnback]

[ His time spent near or in the city has been more intermittent. Few reasons for that, really, but mostly he just needs the space to stretch out. Corners and fringes of a world that isn't his own, but that offers up pockets he can make his own. Control, in small ways.

He's just finished some laundry, though, when she texts. Was thinking of grabbing a bite. So — a drink's fine. ]

Give me what?

text.

[pse]

[ It takes forty-eight hours for service to be marginally restored to the towers that triangulate cellular signals. A lot happens in that time.

To wit, Amos will receive a message — ]

If my car turns up in your shop, pls let me know

[churnback]

Should I expect it?

[ Even if she could hear his voice say the words, he'd have his typical deadpan delivery, but it's — a joke. Kinda. ]

text.

[pse]

Want to come to a friend's birthday party?

There will be beer and cake.

[ Kimiko does not know this for a fact. She is assuming, which... makes an ass out of everyone or something. ]

[churnback]

Who is it?

[ It's not that knowing who they are is a condition of agreeing or not agreeing. He's just curious if he already knows them. And if he doesn't, that's fine. He doesn't mingle the way others might at a party, but he's also fine grabbing a beer and just threading his way through a crowd. Kinda like hitting the bar at a club. He can talk or not talk as much as he wants. ]

text.

[pse]

[ This is probably the message she hesitated on sending the most, because — because. Nursing her phone shyly, anxiously, for several seconds before hitting send and then hastily shoving it into her pocket like it's a hot potato fresh from the microwave. She's doing great. ]

Leaving town for a week. Maybe two.
Don't get killed while I'm gone.

[churnback]

[ Nothing about this says she's doing great, but. She's allowed to have her reasons. ]

This the kind of leaving where you don't wanna be found?

[ A week or two means he trusts she's coming back. But what he's not sure about is if it's the kind of thing where you gotta get your head on right without any company for a while, or — something else is going on. What, exactly? ]

text. (with a sprinkle of action.)

[pse]

[ The month teeters toward turning over and the sun is half sunken into the horizon, edging the city's rectangles in an orange glow, by the time she returns. Logan is dropped off at the community centre, returning to his homeless-adjacent bachelor lifestyle, but she doesn't send him off without snacks. Food wrappers and other trash litter the back seat, mixed with haphazardly repacked luggage — clothes she didn't bother to fold, towels she forgot to wash, a few souvenirs.

She doesn't go home, not yet. Takes a bit of a detour. ]

Back in town.
Brought you something.

Look out your balcony.

[ Down in the guest lot crowding his building, he'll see Kimiko, perched on the hood of her SUV, holding up a bottle of something pale gold. You know, real fairy tale nonsense. ]

[churnback]

[ Though both himself and Cassian have tidied things up around the place considerably, it's still a very lived in space. Things happen here. Tinkering with spare parts, namely. Parts that don't need a place, don't need to get shoved into boxes and bins and organized because chances are, they'll need those parts tomorrow so — why bother?

Still, it's not a dump by any means, and they rotate who puts the meals together. Not like they have access to much of anything fancy. Not that Amos needs it, either. So tonight is just some pasta, a decent sauce, some rolls. Amos is cleaning up the dishes when he gets the text; the slick pad of his thumb sliding against the buttons as he types back.

He doesn't smile fully, exactly, but there's a softening of his expression as he reads the words, considers that this means she's closer than just the other side of a phone screen, slings the dish towel over his shoulder, moves to the window and smirks a little as he looks down at her.

She knows what he likes, for damn sure. Still, he decides to be a little shit about it for a minute and instead of heading down to her, he moves away from the window and texts back. ]

Alright. I looked.

text.

[pse]

[ A day or two before the flood, he's (un)lucky enough to get this text. ]

Car's screaming.

[ Thirty or so seconds later — ]

Car's dead.

[churnback]

That sounds like a problem.

[ After the 'dead' part. He could do this better with a deadpan inflection, but, here they are. ]

Where'd it die?