20017/1 Phone Call and 1 Visit

1 Phone Call and 1 Visit
Date of Scene:	05 February 2025
Location:	Mutant Town Jail
Synopsis:	Longshot's call to Doom Manor from Jail and Cliff's visitation! There's something weird with the phones?
Cast of Characters:	Longshot, Cliff Steele
Tinyplot:	Threads

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Longshot has posed:
The phone at Doom Manor rings.

And Rings.

And when it is, perhaps, finally picked up, the automated voice on the other end is as steril and flat as any of the cheaper-end robotic recordings tend to be.

"You are receiving a call from New York Precinct 78 Community Jail. If you would like to accept this call, please press 1. If you would like to decline with a reason, please press 2 and record your message, if you would like to decline without, please hang up now."

There is a pause, then the recording starts again.

"You are receiving a call from New York Precinct 78 Community Jail. If you would like to accept-"

Cliff Steele has posed:
Days of Thunder.

Cruise. Kidman. Reilly.

Afternoon matinee on a faded black plastic cube made circa 1992, thanks to Bargaintown's ABC affiliate and the good folks down at Waldemeyer Construction, serving Cloverton and Egg Harbour for over ten years. Waldemeyer never lets you down.

The kit's been laid out, instructions scrutinized, paints prepped. Finally, a bit of peace and quiet for the ol' Cliffster.

RING!

"Fuck. C'mon."

RING!

"Yeah, yeah."

"Hello? Oh, shit."

BOOP.

"What in the fuck, elfboy?"

Longshot has posed:
"Woa! How'd you know it was me!?" The words are bright, cheerful and not at all apologetic. In fact, Longshot sounds downright cheerful. Maybe a little drunk? "I've called to tell you that Thin mints are the best flavor of Girl Scout Cookie! And I won't be back tonight. I was arrested!"

That maybe that wasn't something he should sound proud of seems to register, though his tone doesn't lose it's brightness, "I wasn't going to let Conan get arrested by himself. But it's okay, we're going to get lawyers. Better lawyer than my last lawyer, anyway."

Cliff Steele has posed:
"Hoo boy. Fuck me."

The frame of the doorway audibly creaks as the grumpy golem rests his elbow above the wall-mounted rotary phone.

"Let's just start with the fundamentals, I guess. Which jail, and how'd you end up in there?"

Unattended, paints begin to dry out beneath the blazing eye of an adjustable lamp. Unwatched, Cruise and Duvall's rivalry explodes at the Firecracker 400. Unfulfilled, Cliff's dreams of a sleepy afternoon retreat.

Longshot has posed:
Longshot melts into a fit of giggles, "I don't think I can fuck you, Cliff, you're a robot. But even if I could, we gotta go to dinner first at least. Isn't that what the movies say? Dinner then-I don't remember-"
Definitely drunk. In the middle of the day too!

"M' in the mutant one, they think I'm a mutant and didn't want to hear about Mojo World."

"The State Department is the problem." Cliff might be able to even hear that Longshot is nodding to himself at these words, likely as sage a nod as the drunk are usually capable of., "We assaulted some members of the State Department during a bar fight. Also, started a Bar Fight, tall guy was being mean to Conan."

Cliff Steele has posed:
"Wow. Okay. Nope. Not going there."

"Damn, elf, sounds like you stumbled your way into the mother of all shitstorms. I mean, I'm not the brightest guy on the block, but pretty sure the state department is not someone you want to fuck with. Plus, with you being an alien and all."

An uncomfortable pause.

"Shit, I probably shouldn't have said that on the phone. Look, I'll come down there and we'll sort all this out, don't worry."

"But, uh, kid? If someone from the Bureau of N-O-R-M-A-L-C-Y shows up," the Cliffster spells it out, "you fucking run. You got me? TV Land's not the only bad place out there."

Longshot has posed:
Longshot seems entirely unconcerned, but something about Cliff's tone does seem to get through. Thus, he will try and sound as comforting as possible, "It's okay, being arrested isn't so bad. They don't tie you up or chain you to a wall or anything that I was expecting the first time I was arrested. It'll be fine this time too. Don't worry about it!"

Why Longshot expected being arrested to be far worst than what it was is one of the many things that he has not examined, but Cliff's time in Mojo World might inform him on the sort of treatment misbehaving stars receive.

"Also some people kept threatening us with someone named Sue and even though Sue never showed up, sounded like a really powerful person. They were sure we were going to stop."

There is a marked pause of consideration, "Is Sue like Spider-man? Is this some hero I haven't heard of yet? Super cool costume I bet with a name like SUE!"

If Longshot has heard anything Cliff has said, now he seems to prove that is not the case, he has been listening! Thankfully!

"N-O-R-Nor. M-A-Nor-ma-Okay! I don't get what counts as Weird here, Normal is another one that makes no sense. See you soon!"

Cliff Steele has posed:
The 83rd Precinct, Mutant Town.

A fortress of a stationhouse and stable, a red-bricked return to Rome with crenellated corner tower arched by corbels.

Inside, reception is vanilla, ugly. Faces in turmoil, bodies sagged in anguish. Interminable waiting, punctuated by brief moments of chaos.

Finally, visitation.

A robot hunches in a phone booth, groaning. A prisoner, enshackled, is seated across.

"So... How's the food?"

Longshot has posed:
Far more sober, the prisoner in question sits fidgeting with cuffs, making a cheerful clinking audible through the phone, "Hey, it's not so bad! I'm trying to make friends, but made the mistake of playing cards in the yard yesterday. Soooo-"

Longshot's grin isn't particularly apologetic, but he'll shrug, "They thought that I'd be an easy win while drunk anddd-Well, it wasn't my best choice to play if I was trying to be friendly."

Cliff Steele has posed:
"Fuck those losers. I could give two shits about cards in the common room. I'm more worried about the--"

The line goes strangely silent for a moment, as if the connection was cut. Across the plexiglass windowframe, Cliffy jolts, examining the receiver with a glare of confusion and surprise. He tries again, tentatively.

"Uh, elfboy? I think I cut out. It's the--"

A moment of dead silence.

"--that you have to worry about."

"Okay, you heard that too, right? Shit, man, I'm losing my fucking mind."

"Anyway, if they think you're a mutant, that's great. Stick with that--as long as you're easily categorized, you're safe. There's a system. But those who fall outside that system?"

"That's when they call in--"

Dead. Silence.

"Yeah, those guys."

Longshot has posed:
"I'd like to make friends though, Conan might be transfered somewhere else." Still, the silence and Cliff's reaction will have Longshot stopping. He too seems just as surprised, he taps the phone on his end, peering at it and shaking his head, "No I didn't, what was that?"

He stares at Cliff blankly, but very slowly will nod. The continued blank expression seems to imply he still doesn't get it still, "Will let them think I'm a mutant if they want to think that. Okay."

A hand will be raised as high as the cuff will allow and all four fingers wiggled at Cliff in demonstration, "People just assume usually, they don't really ask."

Cliff Steele has posed:
"Yeah, don't I know it."

A faint buzz, clicking connection, static haze, the hint of ozone wafting from the receiver.

Then, the voice. Masculine, clipped, tense.

"You're not hearing this."

"Huh?"

"Just keep talking like everything's normal."

"Umm... okay? So, uh, elf--"

"Don't talk about them, especially on the phone. They live here, and invoking them--it's a spell. A summoning."

"What in the fuck?"

"Act normally! They. Are. Listening."

Longshot has posed:
Longshot jumps as the sound over phone changes again, he stops and looks at it again, then at Cliff. When it is clear that Cliff also isn't sure what is happening, Longshot will nod again, his expression a half-worried frown until the instructions of 'Act Normally'.

Longshot is a terrible liar, but a really good actor.

And with that, he's laughing, "Cliff, you're ridiculous! Cliff? You don't have to worry so much. I can practically see you being worried. No, the foods great, there are lots of mutants in here, I'm amazing at cards and STILL going to make friends."

"They aren't going to be able to touch me, not in here, not out there, it's Okay. Worry Less. Just go with the flow and relax." The smile is present, the ease in Longshot's entire demeanor relaxed, but his eyes flicker from Cliff's to the phone, then back to Cliff, "Relax and listen."

Cliff Steele has posed:
"Good. Good. Look, we don't have a lot of time. You and your friends have long been of interest to--"

The angry bees in the phone go silent, the warm fuzz of the tone muted for pin-dropping clarity.

The Operator speaks.

"We're sorry, but the number you're trying to reach is no lonnnnnnggggg--"

Click. Click. Click. The fuzz returns, a sound from last century. The man, urgent.

"Shit, they're on the line. I have to move. Don't let them lose you in the paperwork, and never trust a man wearing X-raaaayyyyy--"

"--er in service. Please try again later. Attention, station 1441141."

The message begins to repeat when a red light flashes overheard.

Visitation is over.

Longshot has posed:
Longshot has kept talking through most of the high-stress sounds. He seems to be listening, but he's not about to break character, "Cliff? Thanks for coming to visit me." At this, Longshot will lean forward, his grin has grown, "I'm serious, thank you! I'll make friends eventually and you don't need to worry about me in here. But-"

Longshot's words are cut off as visitation ends, though the sentiment seems to be mostly the same if the mouthing and expression is any indication. He seems to realize that his time is up as the guard approaches, he'll look up, disappointment far more real than whatever he was babbling. He'll let himself be unlocked and wave at Cliff as he is told to stand.

Another wave and glance over the shoulder as he is led out will come with a thumbs up and the mouthed words, 'Everything is Fine!'

Then the great grey door closes behind him and he's gone again.