Fourth Casefile: Damage Control. [Voice/Written/Action]

[quicktoanger]

[Voice]

I paused, staring at the journal, not sure what to say for a moment.

What the hell do you say?

"Right. Sorry ab-"

Let's try this again without the accent, Harry.

"Right. Sorry about last week. If I was... off, or confused anybody, or offended anyone, or whatever."

I paused again.

"I lost the jacket, Richard, but did you at least get to keep the rifle?"

I sat for a moment longer, then chuckled.

"Least the hand didn't stay shot. Alright, I think that's it."

I shut off the feed and set to work on a filter. I suck at those, for the record, but this kind of needed to be said and was private, so...

Hell's bells, those things are more trouble than they're worth.

[Written- Locked to Molly Carpenter, filter at 2% 5% 6% 9% 9% 13 16% 20%]

Kid. Molly. I'm sorry about last week. Really, really sorry.
I never meant to
It was like I
Forget it. Look. Let me make it up to you somehow?

[Action]

That done, I tucked my journal in my pocket and went into town. I felt a pressing need to talk to people, which, let me tell you, never happens to me. Ever. Plus, there were a couple awkward conversations I wanted to have.

Comments

[Voice]

[quicktoanger]

They were somewhere, dammit. And somebody would find them, would defeat them.

"Their missions and their drafts are part of the cell, so of course they can't be reached then. Hell, maybe it won't even be one of us. Some external force. These Third Party people. Infighting, even."

[Voice]

[hisdarkmark]

That might be likely, actually, considering the circumstances. There's going to be a slip-up and that's going to be their downfall. It's the same way with all people who only care to torture people. Their ego gets too big.