Drift Fleet Inbox/Appointments

[geonomy]

art by anythingapollo
A catch all for Clay Terran at driftfleet.
Please indicate the method in the subject line!

Comments

omfg

[mortalcoil]

[there is quite a pause while someone is... drunkenly staring at their screen, trying to figure that one out.]

zgas

zash wre r u

:D

[geonomy]

[Clay's pretty much doing the same thing himself, only not drunkenly. He can kind of figure out what's going on, but still.]

idk where zash is?

u need help? i can help u find zgas

[mortalcoil]

wo is tihs

whre is zxhas/???

[geonomy]

im clay terran :D hi, how u doin?

and idk where/who zxhas/ is, wrong number??

[mortalcoil]

oh

[long pause here...]

cna u fnd z\ahs

zjhas

i nede hm i wnt to ho home

[geonomy]

[Well this sounds kind of worrisome.]

tell u what

how bout I come find u

2 help find him?

[mortalcoil]

[there's another long pause, because while he wouldn't admit to needing help from a stranger... finding Zhas is consuming his entire brain right now.]

ok

im a ta barr by th beaehc

[geonomy]

omw o7

[And, after a moment, he realizes that he might not get what that means.]

on my way o7

[mortalcoil]

[yeah, he... still might not get what that means.

and no answer follows. which probably means he's either just going to sit here and quietly wait... or he has passed out on his communicator.

either way, he's not going very far any time soon.]

[geonomy]

[Once Clay shows up, he realizes... he never got this guy's name. Or know what he looks like, since that was all through text.

So as he steps through the bar, he tries to find someone who doesn't quite fit in with the locals, or someone who's drunk, or... someone. So, after a moment, he just decides to call out.]

Um, hey! Hey, this is Clay Terran! I'm looking for the guy who's looking for, uh... Zwhass?

[Of course, some people are looking at him, but he just gives a sheepish little wave. Just getting something done, people.]

[mortalcoil]

[well, he gets quite a few curious and annoyed glances shot in his direction... but at least one of them is definitely not an islander-- lacking the copper tan and pale hair.

way down the bar, over near the wall, there's a scarred-up teenager with one eye who is leaning back to squint in the direction of the call. and kind of... looks just about ready to lose his balance right off the bar stool.

out of all of them here, he looks like a likely candidate to have the sort of wrecked typing from earlier.]

[geonomy]

[... Oh man, he's a teenager, too. Clay gives the other islanders another little wave, then heads over to the guy. He's ready to catch him in case, you know... he does lose his balance, but he really hopes it doesn't come to that.

Jeez, no wonder he was typing all over the place like that.]

Hey, man. I said I'd come help you, and here I am.

[mortalcoil]

[the islanders mostly ignore him... though they are grateful that someone has appeared to claim the kid. no one wants to get close to that underage mess.

Coil looks confused, though. it takes him a minute of staring at the guy before he puts memory and what he's saying together. after looking down at his communicator for a minute, he lifts it up and gestures with it questioningly?]