Natalie's Office, The Hegemony Compound, Brazil, Thursday Morning

[whenshewasnice]

It said some probably positive things about Natalie's character that it took her a while to notice anything was off, simply because... nothing was. Maybe it was because she didn't use very many words to begin with. Easier to stay truthful that way.

Of course, that was until she was on the phone with someone in France. And said something a lot more direct than she'd meant to. She knew herself, so she knew it probably wasn't her level of stress right now. And after apologizing, when she was saying her goodbyes and the other party wished she would have a good rest of the day, and she replied with "I don't know about that, something seems off"? Well, something started to feel way off. Something... Fandom-y.

And she was pretty sure she knew what it was. A simple test was in order. She picked up a red pen off her desk. 'This pen is blue' was a simple phrase, right? Nothing she should struggle with, if things were good and not strange at all.

She went to say it, softly, to herself.

"This pen is red."

Well, shit.

[ooc: NFB, but open for all of the usual stuff! Massive SP warning until my afternoon, but I wanted to get this post up before I head to school.]

Comments

[lockestheway]

"Natalie! I can't write any emails!"

Think she had trouble with truth? Think about poor Peter!

He certainly wanted you to, what with the marching into the room and all that.

[whenshewasnice]

Natalie sighed, putting the pen back on the desk. "Yes, I guessed you might say that soon."

[lockestheway]

Peter took a sip of the coffee he held in one hand. "I need you to tell everyone I'm on vacation," he said. "Just for the day."

[whenshewasnice]

She gave him a bit of a withering look. "And how do you suggest I do that," she asked, nodding at her desk, "when I can't even claim that pen is anything other than red?"

[lockestheway]

"Oh, come on," Peter whined. "I can't ask my mother to do it. She'll spend at least an hour belittling me, first."

[whenshewasnice]

"Will you actually be on vacation?" Natalie asked. "Because if I'm going to tell anyone you are, I think I need to believe it."

She wasn't sure she could spin it in a way where she could say it.

[lockestheway]

Peter groaned and collapsed in a chair. (It was the Peter chair, for dramatic collapsing into.)

"I have to put out a column today, but I've already told one political figure that he's a stuck-up, wandering pile of bullshit with tunnel vision so far," he muttered.

[whenshewasnice]

It was true, Natalie was fairly sure that chair had no other real purpose.

"Most of them deserve it, but it's a PR nightmare." She wrinkled her nose. "I suppose saying you're unable to work could work, in theory."

[lockestheway]

"Now there's a dispatch," Peter said, pulling a face. "'The Hegemon can't write his monthly dispatch today, as he is unable to do his job due to a crippling inability to lie his ass off.'"

[whenshewasnice]

"I would've stopped earlier than that," Natalie replied dryly, resting an elbow against the desk. "Even if people are incredibly naive if they think this job doesn't involve lying."

[lockestheway]

"Can we get away with lying by omission?" Peter wondered.

[whenshewasnice]

"Unless people ask for clarification."

Which some might.

[lockestheway]

Peter pulled a face. "Better not risk it," he muttered. "Maybe I should just suck it up, talk to mother, and ask her to make up a fake Mormon holiday. Or I can go hide under my bed for a day. I haven't done that in at least six months."

[whenshewasnice]

Natalie raised her eyebrows. "I would vote for the hiding if the other option is to talk to Theresa. It doesn't seem like a good time for that."

[lockestheway]

"Fantastic," Peter said. He clapped his hands, then sprung to his feet. "Hiding under my bed it is."

He wasn't kidding.

[whenshewasnice]

She was wondering about that, yes.

"... Are you serious?"

[lockestheway]

"... Yes," Peter said, grudgingly.

[whenshewasnice]

"That's sad, Peter." Thank you, Natalie. "You should at least flop all over my bed like you used to."

[lockestheway]

"If I did that right now, I'd fall asleep there," Peter announced, "and you'd choose that very moment to show up with whoever your latest boytoy is."

[whenshewasnice]

Way to get a heavy sigh and an eyeroll out of her, Peter.

"The word is boyfriend," she drawled, "and I don't currently have one. Even if I did, I would be avoiding him today."

[lockestheway]

"Fine, then I'll go flop on your bed," Peter shot back. "Though I don't think I've slept in there since that time we had sex."

Thank you, Peter.

[whenshewasnice]

"Since the time you became a full-grown person in my eyes?" Natalie retorted. "Doesn't matter. You're welcome to it, although I don't like how this sounds like I'm going to stay behind here."

[lockestheway]

"Fine," Peter said, rolling his eyes. "You want to go back to your place, huddle up on the bed, and pretend like we're either really sick or we've given in to our years of unresolved sexual tension for the day?"

[whenshewasnice]

"Didn't we just establish it was resolved once?"

Force of habit.

"Other than that," she added, getting up from behind her desk, "I thought you'd never ask."

[lockestheway]

"You think anyone in this compound knows we resolved it at some point?" Peter said. He offered her his arm.