Vanishing in figures.

I'm not a pantysniffer. I'm not a pervert.

When do I become this... superhero?

Maybe I ought to ignore you.
Simon Bellamy forhisfriends
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This is Simon's voicemail. Leave a message after the tone.


"Hey, it's Mercy. I was... well, I was thinking about what we'd talked about at the party. And I'd still be interested in seeing what you can do and all that. Anyway, now that finals are over, if you have some time, well... you could give me a call if you wanted or just stop by even. I'm in 524. Okay, so... take care."

Simon had been spending most of the last week or so on the mainland honing his parkour skills and just generally exploring his surroundings, and since he didn't generally get many messages, it had taken him until now to notice this one.

"Mercy, this is Simon. ...I'm still interested in, in your power. M-maybe sometime next week? I'm in 230, you can -- you can stop by, or I can stop by yours, so... Yes. Bye."

Simon was terrible at leaving voicemails.

[So so sorry this is so late, omg! I was away over the weekend, and then I was all over the place and this fell through the cracks. Apologies!]

"Guess we're playing phone tag. That sounds great. Either place is fine. I figure whichever one of us won't have a roommate around will determine where we go. We can just... play it by ear. Take care."

[No worries!]

[from here]

"Why in fact sir, you are the winner of the Kardashian Pudding-butt Appearance Contest! We'll be happy to fly you to New York to meet Kim in person, where you can explain how you're the guy for her in our personalized video interview! Just call back to conform your identity, and you'll be on your way!"


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