[She comes home at five o'clock from a nice long day of meeting new arrivals and baking cookies, and has to sit down and listen to this message twice before she takes this call at half past five.
First listen: What on Earth do Potts and Goodman have to do with one another? Well, Mr. Goodman is a lawyer, already known to be working for both the Initiative and Mr. Pinkman. It makes sense that he would work with her too, and so of course he would execute her...
Second listen: Pepper's gone? Of course. That's just perfect. Right when nearly the whole first floor was ready, too. She probably had somewhere nice to go back to at least, not a grave or anything apocalyptic. There's no knowing for sure. However mature, Kanaya was - past tense now - just an alien child in her eyes, not her therapist or something.
Then: Pepper actually cared enough to send this guy after her so she could get the news that way instead of through an ascii cross where her network ID used to be? That's pretty touching, and she can't dishonor the intention by keeping her lawyer waiting any longer.
There's a thin thread of grief in her voice as she answers the line, easy to mask when the emotion is so familiar to her by now. The dominant tone is a polite confusion that she wishes sounded more like reserved curiosity.]
audio;
First listen: What on Earth do Potts and Goodman have to do with one another? Well, Mr. Goodman is a lawyer, already known to be working for both the Initiative and Mr. Pinkman. It makes sense that he would work with her too, and so of course he would execute her...
Second listen: Pepper's gone? Of course. That's just perfect. Right when nearly the whole first floor was ready, too. She probably had somewhere nice to go back to at least, not a grave or anything apocalyptic. There's no knowing for sure. However mature, Kanaya was - past tense now - just an alien child in her eyes, not her therapist or something.
Then: Pepper actually cared enough to send this guy after her so she could get the news that way instead of through an ascii cross where her network ID used to be? That's pretty touching, and she can't dishonor the intention by keeping her lawyer waiting any longer.
There's a thin thread of grief in her voice as she answers the line, easy to mask when the emotion is so familiar to her by now. The dominant tone is a polite confusion that she wishes sounded more like reserved curiosity.]
Excuse me - Miss Potts left stuff?
What kind of stuff?