It was a perfectly lovely morning, and so Emma had decided to walk into town and treat herself to some ridiculously fancy beverage that pretended to be coffee while she made a few calls. First to her stockbroker, to leave a few messages. Then another call, mostly because Emma just liked being annoying and wanted gossip. "Pick up, Karla," she complained, frowning when she got voicemail. Again.

She frowned at her phone thoughtfully before calling one more number. Hopefully he'd be able to figure out how to answer.


( It took three rings before the connection clicked open. )


[OOC: And so it begins! NFI, totes for broadcast, preplayed with the always-cool make_the_shot. Continued here!]