001 // voice;

[decryptify]

[ The recording starts playing and there's dead silence, for a moment or two, some fidgeting in the background. A pause, sound that seems like someone thoughtfully tapping against the phone, once, twice, a voice; ]

Well, let's see here -- [ A flicker of static, back into silence. And a few moments later there's just noise, static and dead air, though it does sound like there might be a voice somewhere underneath it -- it's too distorted, far too lost in the noise to really make out. Unless, of course, one is familiar with one of the old encryption protocols that this very guy may have taught you, once upon a time.

ENCRYPTED;

[ A seperate recording, encoded within the noise; ]

-- Mayday, mayday. This is Agent York of Project Freelancer, designation Foxtrot-12. Mayday, requesting assistance. Location unknown, missing key equipment, and not all that happy about it, to be be honest. Mayday, mayday, anyone out there? [ A pause, stretching for a few seconds, and a brief sigh. ] Bit of a longshot, huh, D.

[ Another few moments of silence, and something that might be a soft chuckle. ]

Good to know you still remember what I taught you, rookie.

For everyone else, that lasts for a good ten seconds or so before the static flickers into some laughter. ] -- Uh oh. Testing, testing. We clear?

Sorry about that earful of static, folks. [ A sharp, sheepish laugh. ] This tech isn't what I'm used to. Hadriel, that's what I call you, right? Don't think we've been properly introduced?

The name's York. My likes include walks on the beach, an adequate supply of ammunition, and not bein' kidnapped against my will. I think I'm pretty good on walks on the beach, for now. Anyone out there got anything for me on the rest?

Comments

anonymous; text

[blameful]

[ wow, york. why don't you take a hike down the beach straight into the fiery pits of hell because there ain't no way wash is falling for that basic shit. please.

he planned on contacting york on his own terms on his own time, preferably after he worked out how to deal with the meta. if it'd only been him and maine, that would have been simple, too easy, all cozy and warm and miserably familiar just like home. york's presence in hadriel complicates everything, means that wash has to work twice as hard and three times as fast to put a cap on shit before it inevitably explodes in his face.

his avoidance of him has absolutely nothing to do with him being a fucking coward. this isn't because he doesn't want to look york in the face and recount in explicit detail what he's done since leaving freelancer. none of this is personal; it's smart, better for everyone if he has a plan in mind before he sets the ball rolling in unstoppable motion.

( or that's what he tells himself over and over and over and over and over and overoverover )

but nope, can't have that, apparently, can't have order or sense or any semblance of control. in the span of a three minute message, york casually tosses a wrench in his haphazard plans, and wash reads him loud and clear: your move, rookie. make it a good one.

well, fuck that, and fuck you. ]

Technical difficulties? You should try turning it off and on again. Always works for me.

text

[decryptify]

[ Oh, rookie. If he knew this was you, he'd have a few things to say, but as familiar as this is, an echo of something that he used to say to you -- well, he does wonder. But there's no reason to jump to conclusions.

And really, he wouldn't be surprised if Wash never replied to his transmission at all, so. ]

Wow. We got a damn expert here, people.

Your talents are probably wasted on tech support.

perma anonymous; text

[blameful]

[ well, that's the last time he ever offers totally legitimate, 100% serious anonymous help! SOME PEOPLE are so rude. ]

I'm sensing some sarcasm.

perma not-anonymous because he's not a paranoid ike you; text

[decryptify]

No.

Really?

[blameful]

Pickings are slim around here in regards to people who are actually willing to help when help is needed. You shouldn't be so glib.

[ he's only mildly talking out of his ass. ]

[decryptify]

That would carry a bit more weight if you'd said anything other than have-you-tried-turning-it-on-and-off-again.

[blameful]

Well, have you?

[decryptify]

It is fixed, now.

[blameful]

See? Sound advice.

[decryptify]

Oh, yeah, definitely. I give that one out all the time.

[ you remember doncha ]

[blameful]

[ it's not so funny when you're on the receiving end, is it, york. ]

And you were giving me lip for doing the same?

[decryptify]

See, when I do it, it's coming from a certified expert.

[blameful]

[ excuse you. ]

I could be an expert.

[decryptify]

Oh, sure, probably.

Not as much of one as me though.

[blameful]

You absolutely don't know that, though. I could be more of an expert than you. Maybe troubleshooting receiving/transmission problems with old phones is my area of expertise.

[ YOU DON'T KNOW WHO YOU'RE DEALING WITH. DON'T TELL HIM WHAT HE CAN'T DO. ]

[decryptify]

I don't know anything about you, Mr. Anonymous Specialist In Ancient Telecommunications, but I do know a lot about me.

And let me tell you, I'm pretty great at this stuff.

[blameful]

I bet you say that about everything.

[decryptify]

Only when it's true.

Which, I mean. It usually is.

[blameful]

[ some things never change. ]

Not always, though?

[decryptify]

Nobody's perfect.

[ fucking holographic locks ]

[blameful]

[ ain't that the motherfucking truth ]

Keep your chin up, champ. You'll get there.

[decryptify]

When that job in tech support doesn't work out, you should think about a career in life coaching.

[blameful]

No promises.

[decryptify]

Bet I'm more of an expert than you in that, too.