Mask or Menace ☂ IC Phone Post

[numberthree]

INBOX Voice | Text | Call | Video | Surprise Me A flat computer automated voice comes on and states in monotone: "This is the voicemail box for Allison Hargreeves. Leave a message at the beep."

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Klaus

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Phonecall; mid-day, 8/23

[iminthebook]

Harry was pacing, having spent some very good hours reconnecting with, and talking to, his wife, and now, well, he was calling the second most important person in this world to him. He had news, but more, he had pictures to show.

He grinned as he looked down at the pictures, an entire small pocket album that had been with him when he came through the porter this time.

He needed to show these to Allison. She, along with Wanda, was the only other person who would understand, and in some ways, she would understand even more than Wanda, for Wanda did not have children. And Allison knew the pain that he had felt for a year and more of not being home, not seeing his daughter. If anyone would understand his need to show these pictures, tell these stories, it would be her.

And so he dialed, and waited, tapping his feet, and chewing on a pen as he paced.

[numberthree]

She can do this. She can. Already has. She just has to actually decide to actually step up to the fucking plate and deal with it. Like dealing with it yesterday hadn't been entirely like pulling her skin off inch by inch like it didn't matter, and like it wasn't bleeding part of her dry.

It only feels a good deal like stabbing herself, when she pulls up her communicator, juggling some grocery bags to free an arm, and tries to make it sound easy. "Allison Hargreeves."

[iminthebook]

"Hello, Allison. This is Harry." He always says it, just in case someone does not recognize his voice. Which is entirely likely, he often feels, ever since his voice got that older, deeper tone to it. It's easy to feel invisible, in a world where he had stopped really standing out. Which, most of the time, is a good thing, but... yes.

Anyway, he goes on, speaking as he sat again, and leans against his desk, feeling his leg jitter as he tries to sit still.

"I was wondering if you might have a minute or ten to talk, sometime soon?"

His voice is tense, tired, a little stressed, and excited, all at once. He has news, and he has pictures, and he wants to share both.

[numberthree]

There's something polite, but also, a little intense, more energetically charged than she's heard since his announcement of his wedding, about Harry's voice when it starts coming from the other side. It helps distract her from the feeling of stabbing herself in the chest with the name she's carried for thirty more years than the one she just betrayed.

"Yeah, I think I can pencil you in."

With a slow blink she pulled her calendar up through the Mental Network. The roll of days dominated by the brick tower fallen all over the days as Project Walkway scheduled her onto a surplus of interviews and appearances, while also slotting her into new jobs, and coming away even more impressed than they could have imagined.

It wasn't like she'd had a reason to tell them she'd been world-famous for her acting, too, before.

"Is this a phone call kind of request of time, or an in-person kind of time?" And how weird it is that phone calls -- communicator calls, and even videos -- are something she doesn't instantly eschew anymore. Doesn't flinch from and avoid unless she absolutely couldn't avoid them.

[iminthebook]

He is still amazed, and dazzled, by being able to hear her voice, to even do this, via voice, and get her answer. he is amazed and likes to hear it and he takes a moment to listen and savor it as she looks for dates.

At her question, he smiles to himself.

"MOre of an in-person thing. I have some things to tell you, and something to show you... something I think you would appreciate more than most I know here. Please."

Mysterious, yes, but he wants to save the revelation of the pictures for when he sees her. This woman, of all the people here, who has stood by him through more than one time of them facing their ghosts, and their visions, of children not here. This woman, maybe of all those here, who knows how he feels and how not having his kid here makes him feel. Her? he wants to share this joy, even knowing it may reinforce her own sorrow... she deserves to see these pictures.

And he wants to share with her, because of those moments they share. That please at the end is just... he needs to show her these pictures, because it means... more, it means a lot, to him. Her and her connection to Claire, and her knowing his connection to Maggie. And now, he gets to show her and tell her of his second child, newly brought into the world.