|
Post by Adrian Veidt on Sept 21, 2015 18:58:09 GMT -5
It was difficult to not assume the worst after no word from Nina all day, but Xechasmenon was large enough that it wasn't completely impossible that Adrian simply hadn't crossed her path yet.
It was late afternoon, and Adrian stubbed out his latest cigarette before picking up his phone to call her and rule out the worst.
|
|
|
Post by Nina Fortner on Sept 21, 2015 19:03:08 GMT -5
Nina and Raoul were dining in, which was not, for once, a euphemism - it was evening, and she had a couple of hours suggested returning to her father's island for dinner, but instead Raoul had prepared a little something for them and they draped over pillows on the floor while eating, conversing about ethics and Greek mythology, a topic that intersected in fantastic ways. There seemed to be no topic on which Raoul did not know something.
She heard a noise and dismissed it at first, but at its repetition realized it was her phone vibrating within her knapsack.
"It's probably my dad- hold on-"
She sat up in her yellow summer dress and was quickly on the phone.
"Hallo?"
|
|
|
Post by Adrian Veidt on Sept 21, 2015 19:11:33 GMT -5
"Nina? It's Adrian-"
|
|
|
Post by Nina Fortner on Sept 21, 2015 19:13:29 GMT -5
"Hi, dad."
She seemed both cheery and well, and saluted Raoul from the other side of the room. He was looking ever so innocent with those lifted blond eyebrows.
|
|
|
Post by Adrian Veidt on Sept 21, 2015 19:14:46 GMT -5
"Where are you? I was coming perilously close to panicking."
|
|
|
Post by Nina Fortner on Sept 21, 2015 19:17:03 GMT -5
"Oh, dad," she said, with a hapless note of guilt. "I'm out on a boat. With... Raoul."
She said it so casually that it would be hard for an outsider to know it was the verbal equivalent of throwing a bomb into her father's living room.
|
|
|
Post by Adrian Veidt on Sept 21, 2015 19:20:56 GMT -5
"Raoul as in Raoul from the gala?" Adrian said flatly.
|
|
|
Post by Nina Fortner on Sept 21, 2015 19:24:08 GMT -5
"It's not a common name," she said in the stubborn tone of voice equivalent to digging in the heels when one realized one was about to be urged to move.
|
|
|
Post by Adrian Veidt on Sept 21, 2015 19:33:36 GMT -5
"How did he get on the island? The docks are secured," Adrian said, frowning.
Almost immediately afterward, he added, "Wait- are you even on the island? Good God, Nina, what's going on?"
|
|
|
Post by Nina Fortner on Sept 21, 2015 19:37:03 GMT -5
"I left this morning," she said, now beginning to feel a pinch of embarrassment. "It's all very well and good, I've been swimming-"
|
|
|
Post by Adrian Veidt on Sept 21, 2015 19:43:30 GMT -5
"Where are you?"
|
|
|
Post by Nina Fortner on Sept 21, 2015 19:45:59 GMT -5
"I'm just out. I don't know my exact coordinates-"
|
|
|
Post by Adrian Veidt on Sept 21, 2015 19:47:03 GMT -5
"Exact coordinates? Nina- all right," Adrian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Can you see the island?"
|
|
|
Post by Nina Fortner on Sept 21, 2015 19:50:27 GMT -5
"I'm below deck," she said argumentatively.
|
|
|
Post by Adrian Veidt on Sept 21, 2015 19:55:54 GMT -5
"Nina! "
|
|