inbox.

[judgmentbolts]

799-3797

ACTION • TEXT • VOICEMAIL

CODE

This is Cid. Leave a message if you like.

Comments

text.

[savante]

[ In the time since their run-in, it would have been easy enough to let this new contact wither on her phone without a concrete reason to reach out. Except—

There's something to be said for someone immediately proving themselves reliable on first meeting. It's a little check-mark in Cid's column, the kind of unconscious assessment Lune might have jotted down for one of her colleagues: Proven in the field, can hold their own. Trustworthy(?) And so there’s that perpetual curiosity needling at her to learn a little more about him, and one particular question he asked in jest and which, she thinks, she could still circle back to. ]

So what is your preferred breakfast?

Cordialement,
Lune.

[judgmentbolts]

Anything I'll not have to cut down with a sword will do. Think we can manage this time around?

[savante]

I do know a few all-day diners in the city with staff that won't try to kill you. Merely spit in your food if you're rude (or so I hear!).

[judgmentbolts]

Well, so long as it's only that, I'll be pleasant as a peach.

Just tell me where and when and I'm all yours.

[savante]

Daphne's Diner, tomorrow morning?

[ She tags the message with the diner's address at the Pavilion. And she'll be there, right on time. Even a little early. ]