inbox.

[scornfully]

❝Hi, this is Arthur Pendragon's phone. Leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Ta.❞

voice | text | call | email

Comments

IM

[scornfully]

Right. Anyway, I'll make sure your precious bird-repelling tinfoil gets back to you later today.

IM

[busy]

My guitar and favorite hoodie thank you.

IM

[scornfully]

Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. A bird couldn't steal a guitar.

IM

[busy]

A flock could. And birds of a feather flock together.

IM

[scornfully]

I had no idea you were so paranoid.

[ But oh my god he's done with this bird-talk, it's making him want to giggle. ]

So you play the guitar. How long?

IM

[busy]

Uhm.

[Merlin glances up, thinking. Counting.]

Six days.

IM

[scornfully]

[ He bursts out laughing at that - not maliciously, mind you, just. Amused. ]

Oh? And how's it been going for you?

IM

[busy]

[Even Merlin is forced into a sheepish smile at that.]

So far I just have a blister.

IM

[scornfully]

You should ask one of the Apollo lot to give you a hand. They love showing off.

IM

[busy]

I get the feeling I'd end up more an audience than a student when you put it that way.

IM

[scornfully]

Possibly, but it's surely worth a shot.

IM

[busy]

Yeah, I guess so. Thanks for the suggestion.

IM

[scornfully]

There's really no need to thank me. It's the obvious solution to your blister problem.

IM

[busy]

But not the only solution. We could take a needle to it.

IM

[scornfully]

I'll leave you to do that on your own, I think.

IM

[busy]

Ok. But don't blame me if something really bizarre happens and you miss it.

IM

[scornfully]

You know? I'm actually fairly certain I'll manage.