( one; voice )

[cursebreaking]

[Emma has read what information has been made available, she’s walked the grounds and the corridors of some of the mansion’s ground floor, and she’s combed through what public postings she could find to look through on the device she’d found in the pocket opposite of where she kept her own phone. She’s been digging for evidence since she got here, but what she’s found?

She’s not buying it. The message that comes through is voice only, not wanting to reveal her face or her exact location right away-- though she’s pretty damn sure that whoever’s responsible for this is watching her and has a good idea of where she is, if not who.]

Look. I know someone is out there listening.

[She doesn’t know exactly who, but someone.]

This game of yours? I’m not interested. I don’t know how you got me here, or how you set all this up. Maybe it’s some messed-up alternate reality game, but I didn’t opt in for any of this. I don’t care how elaborate it is, or how much work went into it-- my kid is at home waiting for me, and I am not screwing around.

[Her tone is hard, angry rather than anxious, determination winning out over uncertainty.]

‘Wonderland.’ Cute, but I’m not impressed. All I want is for you to point me towards the exit. You can do me a solid and we can do this the easy way-- or we can do it the hard way. Trust me, whatever weird stuff you might be into, I can promise you won’t be happy if we go that route.

[She stays on the line, just to wait for any kind of possible response-- but she doesn’t really know what to expect. This entire thing has her out of her depth, even if she’s not willing to admit it.]

Comments

voice;

[cursebreaking]

Remember? From when?

[If her son had been to a place like this before, wouldn't she know? It wasn't the sort of thing a parent could just overlook-- but what little he does give her is almost enough to make her hope.]

voice;

[saunteredvaguelydownwards]

Mm. [Give him a second. Time stops having too much meaning when you can pass a hundred years asleep and call it a catnap.]

A few months ago. A couple of weeks before Halloween. He was asking about... [Ah-hah.] ... writing stories. Of course.

voice;

[cursebreaking]

[That does sound like him, but--]

Before Halloween, he was home with me. He wouldn't have gone anywhere without my knowing.

[It's impossible for him to have been here. The timing doesn't line up, and she's nowhere near ready to start accepting what people have been throwing at her in the last half hour as anything resembling truth. All of this is just crazy.]

Look, thanks for the attempt to help, but--

[It's not enough when she can't even begin to process what she's hearing. Her brain just won't allow it.]

I need to go look for him. I'll walk every square inch of this place if I have to.

[If he's not here, then that's better for him, but she needs to know-- she has to know for sure.]

[saunteredvaguelydownwards]

[She's not really listening, but... that's fine. It's fine, because Crowley doesn't actually care enough to put too much of his energy into convincing her otherwise. There are plenty of other people around here who will do that without him needing to.

So the demon shrugs to himself and makes a sound of agreement.]

Sure. If he's here, he'll have one of these devices, just like you do. Good luck-- [A pause, he checks her name.]

-- Emma.

[cursebreaking]

Thanks.

[It's not all that genuine-sounding, thanks to the panic she's having a hard time keeping beneath the surface, but it's not as hostile as she started out, at least. She won't rest until she knows Henry's safe-- but no amount of luck is going to make that possible.]