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."

Luther

Diego

Klaus

Five

Ben

Vanya

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Comments

[numberthree]

[ She doesn't think he's lying. She doesn't even need to hear it to know that. Everyone had been knit together at the need of necessity in that last two days, and even before that around Vanya without any memory of them. It wasn't the same thing she felt. That empty space in her with Vanya's name -- like Luther's, like Claire's -- that hadn't filled up with anyone else in those two and half years, even as she spoke Vanya's name just as-never as everyone else's. But she does believe he wants her here. It's a step.

But, sadly, it happens at the same time as people are moving though.
Which shifts her first response to being different. ]

I might have to vanish shortly.
Waiting forever might finally be over.

[obediences]

It's almost like you have a job to get back to or something.

[ That light touch of dry humour. Sometimes grateful for this veil of the mental network, even as it distances them. Luther almost types out another apology for taking up her time, distracting her while she's on call — but he erases it before sending. Even he can tell, sometimes, when he's tripping over himself too much for comfort. ]

Don't get fired, and thanks for the talk. I'll see you at home?

[numberthree]

[ It's not something she's going to comment on, but gaze hooks on the 'thanks for the talk', thinking how entirely, strangely roundabout this whole thing is, that he's ending somewhere near there, after showing up to check on her Wedding Anniversary, on her. She only studies it a second before pushing through. ]

Pretty sure they wouldn't let me go even it I quit at this point.

[ It's been a few years (and it hasn't), but she still remembers exactly what it looks like when someone is seeing her as a monetizable asset more than herself. She was the best kind of unexpected good press and future bankshot. They were going to milk it for as long as it lasted and as much as it turned out she could do. She knew that; and even more, she knew what she could do.

If she continued to put her mind to it,
to carve even more and more time out for it. ]

And, of course. I might be later than normal.
Depends on how long this runs, but I'll be there.