Circe dialed up Donovan 's telephone number. Nothing ventured, nothing gained after all.
The elf waited for him to pick up.
Calling the Farmer
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Circe dialed up Donovan 's telephone number. Nothing ventured, nothing gained after all.
The elf waited for him to pick up.
Donovan doesn't have a personal phone. Circe is forced to call the motel Alex has set him up in and go through the receptionist to transfer to the Wizened's room. And hope he's even home and not out on the streets somewhere.
Luck, however, seems to be on the Fairest's side.
"Hello?"
A happy Italian accent greeted Donovan's ear: "Hiya buddy! It's me. How are ya? Say, I noticed at the last shindig that your wardrobe could use some, well, more variety. Wanna go shopping? I'll treat ya." Because he really did need more. Circe saw it as a problem that she could fix.
Was it possible to hear a shrug through a phone call? There was an indistinct grunt that certainly sounded like a vocal shrug.
"If yer treatin'," Donovan said simply.
Did Circe actually here a shrug? "Uh, right. Excellent! How about <address> at <date>?"
"Yeah. A'right." It wasn't like he had a steady job to worry about.
"See ya then." He waited to make sure there wasn't anything more before hanging up.
"Cool."
I'll start a thread shortly and tag you for it. Thank you!