ArchivedLogs:Inconvenience

Inconvenience
Dramatis Personae Lucien, Neve	2014-07-27 '
Location Telephone
1 a.m., maybe a few minutes after. Lucien had left a card with a handwritten phone number on it. Now the phone assigned to that number begins to ring. Does he know Neve's own phone number? That's what caller ID displays. Perhaps Lucien knows Neve's number. Perhaps it's just that this phone was purchased last night and the number only given so far to one person. Regardless, the phone is answered in short order, with a quiet, "Salut, Neve," his francophone accent clear enough and only accentuated by the French greeting. The silence draws on for a time. When she does speak, Neve sounds as if she's just come from dreaming--sleep-fogged and furry-tongued. "Salut." Her slurring lacks any of the light grace of his accent. "You said options. That there were options." "I did." This is quiet, and followed for a moment by silence. "For you, there are options. Things /will/ be ugly, but that does not mean there is nobody out here who --" He falls quiet. "There are places you could go. It depends how you wish to approach all this. But there are those willing to keep you safe." "There are reporters outside of the building. Downstairs. Dad...he thinks. I should go away. For a little while. But I…" Like Lucien, Neve is comfortable in quiet speech and long pauses. When she speaks again, she does so with her hand rubbing against her eyes. Trying to wake up. "I don't want to go away, no. I want to see Matt. Can I...can we do that? Can I see him? Please?" This, too, is met with long pause. "That," Lucien eventually answers, "is not up to me. I can ask. As long as you elect to ally yourself with his abusers, I cannot -- make promises as to his /answer/." Neve answers with a hitch of breath. Whether it's laugh or sob is impossible to say, there's no voice behind it. "Will you believe me," she says after, "if I say I don't. Elect. To ally myself." "No." This answer comes simple and immediate. "You could have left when I came to you. You could leave now. There is /always/ a choice. It may not be an easy one. But there is always a choice." Distantly, in the background, cabinets are being opened. Drawers closed. Some of the slur is leaving her voice. "If I leave, they'll follow." Neve pauses. "There's something in my head. A lot of somethings. Right now. I did know you? Yes?" "Those somethings can be fixed, too. You are far from the first person to leave Prometheus's hold, you know. And as much media attention as they -- and you -- are getting right now, it would be complete suicide for them to actually try /harming/ you if you left. Leave. Leave /publicly/, there is little they could do about it. We have people who will keep you safe." After this there is quiet. The slow breath Lucien takes in is audible. "You knew me." "Then that voice is the lie," she murmurs, more for himself than for her. A soft hiss of breath follows and she's quiet again. Then, in an attempt at briskness, she says, "I can leave publicly. In the morning. I have a bag. Money. Or...now. Now might be better. He gave me something. It's wearing off. When he's back...there will be more. For the headaches. I don't know where he is right now." "Would you like me to pick you up?" This question is simple, unweighted, though in the background there is already a sound -- door opening, things being shuffled -- to suggest movement. "You'll be filmed if you do that. The reporters." Far less simple, far more weighted that answer. "Mmm." After this, a brief interval of silence. "I can send a car." There's a huff of breath. "All right. A car. I can...I'll be downstairs. In...in half an hour? Does that sound right?" "Half an hour." Lucien echoes this in acknowledgment, the background noises subsiding back into quiet. "Be safe, Neve. I will see you shortly." "Thank you. Thank you, Mister...mm. I apologize. For the inconvenience. Thank you." And then the connection clicks off, quickly. There is only a shaky-heavy breath pushed out into the dead air on the line, and then Lucien hangs up as well.