ic ♦ voicemail

[nolessthanseven]

Hey! You've reached the fabulous Isabelle Lightwood. I'm obviously not here right now, but leave me a message, and I'll get back to you.

Comments

[justice_is_blond]

I promise no hair pulling. Ever. I don't do that. [There's a pause.] I think I promised that already. So it's a double promise. A doubromise. Domise. Doublomise. No. Doubromise. I like that one.

[nolessthanseven]

I think you might have. But that's okay; doesn't matter anyway. And 'doubromise' definitely works better than the rest of those, even if it sounds like some weird foreign language.

[justice_is_blond]

Foreign lang-- they're not weird. I speak two. Trade and that of my homeland. Though it's not really my home. They sent me away.

[nolessthanseven]

That's because they're jerks. Our homeland sent my parents away; I know the feeling. They're still jerks.

[justice_is_blond]

Why do they do that? Send away. Send people away who want to be there. They lose. And we lose. Everyone loses.

[nolessthanseven]

It's true. Except they sort of won in that case, because my parents were running the Institute in New York City. So someone else didn't have to, obviously. I think the only real loss was to my family.

[justice_is_blond]

The Insti-- The... It was bad? And so they wanted no more running?

[nolessthanseven]

Well, no. It's good. The Institute's great - it's like a sanctuary, but it's a long way to go from Idris. So hey, if you're exiling a family with a couple of little kids over there anyway? Why not get something out of it?

I don't know. I guess that's how it worked. I was sort of little.

[justice_is_blond]

Oh. They sent your parents to that, not from. Used you all.

[nolessthanseven]

Yeah. Sorry; I wasn't clear. [a little laugh.]

Whatever. It happens.

[justice_is_blond]

It's all right. I'm easily... easily lost right now. Muddled.

[nolessthanseven]

That's because you're drunk. Drunker than I've ever seen you, at least. And technically, I can't even see you right now.

I don't really blame you, though. For getting drunk. I totally would.

[justice_is_blond]

Very drunk. Sodden drunk. Complex-- com-- All the way drunk. Why don't you? Once you finally get to this point things are a little better. Shortly.

[nolessthanseven]

Because I'm pretty sure me drinking by myself is just horribly depressing. Does it count if I'm on the phone with you the whole time, though?

[justice_is_blond]

I'm not alone if I'm calling lots of people. You won't be alone while talking to me.

[It totally makes sense. Really.]

[nolessthanseven]

Okay. Then maybe. I could do that.

[justice_is_blond]

Good. That sounds good. Now? Or another time?

[nolessthanseven]

Well, I guess I could do it now. I think I've got a bottle of wine kicking around.

[justice_is_blond]

Then bring it. The wine, to the Forge. I'll have another glass and we'll drink.

[nolessthanseven]

[she pauses, then shrugs to herself; he'll hear a little rustle.]

All right. Give me a second.

[more rustling as she goes to find it; a soft pop of a cork after a few moments.]

Okay. I'm good. You want a toast?

[justice_is_blond]

[He gets a refill of his own and waits.]

Let's. To... Hm. Not being dead. That may work. Even though it would be peaceful sometimes.

[nolessthanseven]

To not being dead. Because it would be a serious pain in the butt, and would probably hurt.

[and down half that glass goes.]

[justice_is_blond]

[He takes part of his drink.]

Now you. If you've toast ideas. But being dead would likely be very painful. For a short time. I'd like to pass. Even if I got to come back.

[nolessthanseven]

I'd definitely like to pass. Especially with all the methods of dying they have around here. None of them strike me as all that fun.

[she pauses, thinking.]

To... Getting drunk over the Forge with good friends.

[justice_is_blond]

Mm. Good one. I'll drink to that.

[And he does, taking another drink.]

To having good friends. How's that? It's still new. Ones who don't see me as mage first, Anders second.