STORY

it just rings. no fancy shit, no cute messagebank.

One Voicemail Message Received at 1:45pm:

"I did--I had Hungry Jack's."

1 VoiceMail Message:

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that this pen wasn't from you and Lourdes as an early April Fool's Day gag. Really though, Dylan, I've been hearing that a bunch people around the city got them. You can have mine if you want. Might be useful in figuring out where it came from or something? I dunno. Call me back either way. I'm trying to see if other peoples' messages were as pointless as mine."


...Nolan rarely, if ever, introduced himself over the phone. The people that he called were generally either waiting for his call, or would be able to recognize his voice right away. So there'd be no "Hey it's Nolan!"s from him anytime soon.

1 New Voicemail:

"Mr. Dylan... it's Freya." As there was really only one Freya in the Treymaine world. She sounds irritated. "I have one of these pens that were delivered everywhere. Frankly, this is the third time I've gotten something annoymous in the mail that is mildly threatening. The first was a letter, the second soap. The pen says, 'We are coming.' I hope you all are on top of this. Let me know if you need anything more from me." End of message.

1 New Voicemail Message:

"I think it's time we fixed that problem in the warehouse district. Get back to me, Thomas."

1 New Voicemail Message:

"Just got done getting ready at the compound, Sir Dylan. Don't keep me waiting or I'll go do something more interesting."

1 New Voicemail Message:

"Mr. Dylan, this is Anika Chandra; I've completed the assignment."

1 New Voicemail Message:

"Your assistant told me it came with shining armor."

1 New Voicemail Message:

"Mine means 'Self doubt. Stubbornness. Unwillingness or inability to adapt to changing circumstances and accept the opportunities it may bring. Lack of trust and self-doubt. Obstacles to happiness. Diminished life. Inability to freely express oneself. Rigidity of mind.'"--Lourdes makes a sound like the beginning of laughter--"I'd say it's appropriate, minus that self doubt bullshit. We are entertained."

1 New Voicemail Message:

"I had my assistant buy me a book just for this, you know. He said he met a rather lovely young blond at the store that knew all about them. I'll be checking her out later--" The sound of pages turned quickly to make sure she finished before the voicemail beeped--"'Unreliability and recklessness. Fraud, embezzlement, false promises and trickery. A person who is congenital liar, someone who has trouble discerning the end of the truth and the beginning of falsehood.' I don't ever remember you being a man of false promises."

1 New Voicemail Message

It's rushed, furious, and utterly unlike the average message that Tom would have received from Nolan Price. Truthfully, he was still shaken from the last message received from the Libertines...in fact, the truth revealed about him was something that he'd been unhappy with himself. But still. That wasn't the fucking point. The point was, they were getting worse, and they needed to be put down.

"I'm so sick of this bullshit. First they start in on my kid and now this. What can I do to help crack this thing? Let me know, and it'll be done by the hour."

He had a feeling that he might need to go talk to Bill Grant sooner rather than later...he just hoped that he didn't ask him to play chess with him again. Nolan was shit at that game.

One new Voicemail message.

"Message recieved at: 7:14 AM on the 8th of November."

The voice is recognisable, but strained...and very very pissed off. In the background a powerful car engine can be heard roaring away.

"If there are any standing bounties on Deacon Jade, increase them by fifty percent. I'll front the cash on my own. And call that crazy Russian gun-runner friend of yours, I need a new rifle. *click*"