Post by sersi on Jun 21, 2012 21:22:07 GMT -8
“You are scheduled to meet with the Undersecretary of Transportation at 9:00 am sharp, tomorrow, Ms. Rystaad.”
Seanne vaguely recalled the words from last night, or possibly a night before, and tried to push her mind through the barbiturate haze and find a point in lucidity to anchor herself to and make her self work ready. I'm on a couch, she finally decided and pressed her hands down into the soft, downy material. I'm on my couch, she corrected.
I'm wearing someone else's shirt, she continued, checking off various things she could be vaguely certain were “real”. She was fairly certain the shirt's owner wasn't in her apartment, but that was all she could figure out about the stranger. It was comfortable;e, and made of a nice material she decided, and huge, so it had either belonged to a man, or a giant woman. Seanne vacantly wondered what she had traded for the shirt – if in fact there was now a man wandering the streets of Greenwich Village wearing very nice pants and her bra, but quickly decided such paths of thought were best left untravelled.
She experimentally opened her eyes, looking for any sign of what time it may be in the world outside. Her apartment slowly came into focus, blurry and upside down from her vantage on the couch. She could hear a droning buzz somewhere in the apartment. Across the living room a single word greeted her in the form of an ominous LED: OebO.
“...and Oebo to you too...” she muttered, simultaneously trying to dislodge and swallow what ever form of death that had seemd to have lodged itself in her mouth. OebO. This meant something, she thought. The buzzing continued, far off in the distance. Seanne slowly put her feet on the ground, sitting up and trying to decide what to deal with first. The buzzing was annoying, but ignorable, and could quite possibly be part of her hang over. The word, on the other hand -
She had been dealing with secret societies and riddles for almost sixth months now, and felt she was finally getting the hang of their ciphers and messages. Part of her relished the idea of figuring this out, and seeing the look on Jean's face when she did it without his condescending help.
“Buzz buzz buzz...” she said, looking absently around her room – for a brush, for pants, anything really. “That's what it sounds like when...” an idea came to her, but slipped away just as quickly. She found a tooth brush on her breakfast bar and began to brush the evil out of her mouth, not really caring how the utensil got so far from it's home. She remembered when Jean first came to work for her, shortly after her father's death, and how at the time she had thought he was a godsend. She remembered how quickly she had changed her mind.
“Buzz buzz buzz.” She had told him. “This is what you talking sounds like. It's SO going to be your ringto-” the memory cut off as she realized in horror where the buzzing was coming from.
She found her pants once she followed the noise to them, fishing her phone from the pocket and answering.
“Ms! Ry.Sta-ad.” the voice was very punctual, she decided. Not like on time, (although she was sure the words came exactly when they were meant to), but full of periods and commas and crap like that. She had heard this tone before, and it usually meant that she was in trouble, which she realized happened far too often for someone that was supposed to be in charge.
“Jean! I was just thinking of you!” the voice on the other end seemed to glare, but she figured she it was no time to allow him to talk again. “Hey! What's Oeb...” Seanne glanced back to the angry LED, realizing all too late how much a difference of perspective made. “Shit! It's 09:30!” She had hung up before he even had a chance to make a chastising remark, heading out the door and hurrying into her pants as quickly as she could, and more or less in that order.
Seanne vaguely recalled the words from last night, or possibly a night before, and tried to push her mind through the barbiturate haze and find a point in lucidity to anchor herself to and make her self work ready. I'm on a couch, she finally decided and pressed her hands down into the soft, downy material. I'm on my couch, she corrected.
I'm wearing someone else's shirt, she continued, checking off various things she could be vaguely certain were “real”. She was fairly certain the shirt's owner wasn't in her apartment, but that was all she could figure out about the stranger. It was comfortable;e, and made of a nice material she decided, and huge, so it had either belonged to a man, or a giant woman. Seanne vacantly wondered what she had traded for the shirt – if in fact there was now a man wandering the streets of Greenwich Village wearing very nice pants and her bra, but quickly decided such paths of thought were best left untravelled.
She experimentally opened her eyes, looking for any sign of what time it may be in the world outside. Her apartment slowly came into focus, blurry and upside down from her vantage on the couch. She could hear a droning buzz somewhere in the apartment. Across the living room a single word greeted her in the form of an ominous LED: OebO.
“...and Oebo to you too...” she muttered, simultaneously trying to dislodge and swallow what ever form of death that had seemd to have lodged itself in her mouth. OebO. This meant something, she thought. The buzzing continued, far off in the distance. Seanne slowly put her feet on the ground, sitting up and trying to decide what to deal with first. The buzzing was annoying, but ignorable, and could quite possibly be part of her hang over. The word, on the other hand -
She had been dealing with secret societies and riddles for almost sixth months now, and felt she was finally getting the hang of their ciphers and messages. Part of her relished the idea of figuring this out, and seeing the look on Jean's face when she did it without his condescending help.
“Buzz buzz buzz...” she said, looking absently around her room – for a brush, for pants, anything really. “That's what it sounds like when...” an idea came to her, but slipped away just as quickly. She found a tooth brush on her breakfast bar and began to brush the evil out of her mouth, not really caring how the utensil got so far from it's home. She remembered when Jean first came to work for her, shortly after her father's death, and how at the time she had thought he was a godsend. She remembered how quickly she had changed her mind.
“Buzz buzz buzz.” She had told him. “This is what you talking sounds like. It's SO going to be your ringto-” the memory cut off as she realized in horror where the buzzing was coming from.
She found her pants once she followed the noise to them, fishing her phone from the pocket and answering.
“Ms! Ry.Sta-ad.” the voice was very punctual, she decided. Not like on time, (although she was sure the words came exactly when they were meant to), but full of periods and commas and crap like that. She had heard this tone before, and it usually meant that she was in trouble, which she realized happened far too often for someone that was supposed to be in charge.
“Jean! I was just thinking of you!” the voice on the other end seemed to glare, but she figured she it was no time to allow him to talk again. “Hey! What's Oeb...” Seanne glanced back to the angry LED, realizing all too late how much a difference of perspective made. “Shit! It's 09:30!” She had hung up before he even had a chance to make a chastising remark, heading out the door and hurrying into her pants as quickly as she could, and more or less in that order.
