IC Inbox

[skeletonenigma]

[This is the IC inbox for Skulduggery Pleasant at tushanshu.]

Comments

audio;

[gistful]

Half an hour ago, perhaps. Erskine's here.

[Which might explain why Anton's voice is just a touch hoarser than usual. But amused, in a resigned sort of way, as he says the next:]

Did you just throw someone into a canal?

audio;

[skeletonenigma]

[That does explain it. It also confirms the last thing Ghastly remembers. The next few months certainly have the potential to be interesting.]

No.

[A short pause, punctuated by the sound of air rushing past the radio.]

Yes, but it was her own fault.

[The earlier audible voice was male, for the record.]

audio;

[gistful]

I see.

[A pause.]

What happened to the man?

[What, grabbing for any old distraction? Not Anton.]

audio;

[skeletonenigma]

The -- oh. It might have been a man. I couldn't tell.

[Either he's obfuscating deliberately for God-knows-what reason, or it actually was impossible to tell because the kedan had shapeshifted somewhere in between. It's anyone's guess.]

Are they both still in the Hotel? ... Are they both right there with you?

audio;

[gistful]

Yes.

[Pause.]

And Saracen.

[Another pause.]

Hopeless too.

audio;

[skeletonenigma]

[Here, have a really old Irish curse. Or two.]

None of them have soul gems, do they?

audio;

[gistful]

[There's what might be some muffled commentary before Anton answers.]

No. So don't be late.

[And he switches off the radio.]