bindsthedead | IC CONTACT POST

IC CONTACT POST

How do I- Oh! This is Sabriel- please leave a message at the-

[It's like a switch--the moment Sabriel says the word, his shoulders hunch up, lip curling.

As if to silently say "Do we have to?"]

Just for information, right?

[Sabriel bites back an exasperated sigh.]

At least. A submarine or two of our own wouldn't go amiss either.

[And in return, fingers thread through his hair, heaving out a sigh as he tries to keep his mind fixated on who he's doing this for. Bull, Dipper, Carl, Max...

If they're underwater, there's no way he can get there by just swimming.]

They're gonna hold this over us. You know that, right?

If we're smart about it, it will be mutual. Even if no imPort had the slightest interest in getting people back, the military would- to keep them out of Russian hands, and to keep from looking like fools. They're going to launch a rescue mission anyway- they'll probably be happy to have imPort assistance.

Besides- the first imPorts got rid of a corrupt government by finding allies in the military and government and working with them. This may be a chance to start doing the same.

So...that's the real trick. [Of course it was because they were weapons. America had openly stated that's all they were. And going crawling to them for transport...it edges at the corners of his heart.

But Sabriel was right--this was about more than just his pride. This was about fifty imPorts looking to him not to screw up. And like hell if he was going to let them beat him to rescuing them.]

I don't have to dress up do I.

Probably not, as long as you're wearing something appropriate for the weather.

But if it's what it takes to rescue them, I'll wear whatever's necessary- whether it's an American uniform or a bloody clown getup.

[There's a scowl at that--although surprisingly not the part of the sentence that Sabriel might think.]

Clowns.

[Well, at least he's not refusing the uniform.]

What? [Sabriel blinks, clearly Not Getting It.] I know some people think they're creepy, but they always seemed stupid to me.

[He doesn't blame her, it's pretty specific only to him, as he rocks back on his heels.]

A rival gang back home was called the Clowns. They were more of yakuza than mine--er...[Give him a moment, he's trying to find the right comparison for the word.]

Like...like the mafia.

Disgusting bastards who thought they ran the streets just cause they sprayed a little graffiti everywhere.

Ugly as hell, too.

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