pinesnet | (phone, May 20th morning)

[The memory that had returned to so many of them had shaken Laura something fierce; it was familiar, familiar in ways that were beyond what her hospital phobia amounted to, and now - now she's found herself brave enough to cut into her leg and find the tracker hidden inside. Of course, she'd been excited to remove it (and angry, of course, angry that it was even there), but that new energy was soured by waking the next morning and finding that same lump under her skin.

Well. She cuts it out again in the bathroom of the Howlett family, destroys the tracker again, and heads to the phone with icy disgust and offense that far surpasses self-preservation. (Especially when they go also arresting her teacher recently, she really likes her goddamn art class - and her sister, too, though?! Really guys?)]

There are trackers in our legs.

They come back in the morning if you destroy them.

[This message will be suddenly wiped from the phone-lines in three or four minutes. Maybe your character managed to catch it this morning before school, though.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She stares at the phone for a long moment, considering the question.

Perhaps he's trying to be secretive. She can help with that, maybe, if he reads between lines.]

I can teach you better Spanish, if you want.

Helpful words, sí?

[Oh. This is a clever girl. Very clever. Enough to notice a tracker, know what it is, and able to communicate under the radar? Damn. Where's she learn this?]

That'd be awesome. L'italiano è vicino, sì? Figure it shouldn't be too hard.

[And Hell, if they do share a little language learning as a cover, why not? Shit always comes in handy. Like now. 'Course now Rumlow's gotta find a way to hang out with a kid, ostensibly practicing Spanish while not getting overheard by the town surveillance. Eh. He'll figure something out. Or just speak purely in their respective languages and hope no one understands.]

[She catches something about Italian and yes, but - hmmm.

She imagines he's asking her about knowing Italian, though. Good enough.]

Sì. We can figure it out. It's good to take up time.

[She thinks maybe they can write things on paper. It's easier. How well do the cameras pick up writing, she wonders? Maybe if they pretend it's Spanish practice. Yes, that would be good. Granted, she's at the point where she'd just say this all with less caution, but she can understand uncertainty and the desire to be secretive.]

[Especially when Rumlow would rather not think about the startling revelations of his life. Yeah. Good to take up time. He smiles, though she can't see it.]

Know where the boxing gym is? 'S where I work, so if you wanna drop by when you're free, I'll be there.

[Better than him showing up at school -- since that would just come off as super fucking creepy. Rumlow's not in for that. He just wants to get more intel, and if the source happens to be a little girl? Whatever. He ain't picky. Not when this shit is on the line.]

Yes. I practiced fighting a little there.

But I wasn't very good at it.

[

]

[Rumlow chuckles. Maybe it's a lie, maybe not. He's got no idea who the girl is, after all -- it's entirely possible she did come to the gym once, during the past year or so he's allegedly been here.]

Practice makes perfect. Maybe we can trade. Spanish lessons for boxing lessons.

[He's not entirely certain how much she'd learn, but it's another good excuse.]

[Hmmm. She seems more than content with the offer.]

It's a good trade.

[She'll see you around, Italian Man.]

Good. See you then, kid.

[A damn good trade. Rumlow hopes they'll run into each other sooner rather than later.]

(phone, May 20th morning)

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