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[originallutece]

Rosalind Lutece

Doctor of physics, professor at Recollé University.

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[roseblooms]

Yes. It was my mother.

[originallutece]

I didn't mine. I knew it was male, but I didn't have any idea who it was. I was in the dark with a strange man's voice echoing in my brain, and yet I wasn't threatened, not in the least.

It's not that I wanted to be. But it's an odd lack of reaction to have.

[roseblooms]

What did it say? The voice, when it echoed?

[originallutece]

It wasn't even a full sentence. Something about a subject struggling to create something-- memories, I think, but I could be wrong.

[roseblooms]

Oh. That sounds terribly strange. Perhaps you had one of those memory...hallucinations people seem to think come tied to this app?

[originallutece]

Perhaps. Although if it was, it was rather a disappointment. From what I've heard, those are usually fully fleshed out memories; this wasn't even a full sentence. Never mind my not knowing who the speaker was.

Perhaps it was simply a hallucination. Heaven only knows how our biology was affected during all this time, never mind when jammed between two slabs of concrete; perhaps I was hallucinating from oxygen deprivation or something.

[roseblooms]

I suppose that would make the most sense. Perhaps the flowers are the same way, some sort of mild hallucinogen in the pollen, made more egregious by our smaller state, or...

Regardless, I'm told those "memories" tend to be triggered by similar environments and behaviors. Perhaps by spending more time around men you do know, you'll jog your memory about the strange one you don't.

[originallutece]

Is that a general invitation to keep you in the classroom even longer grading papers? Or shall I simply start going out to dinner with Carter twice a month?

[roseblooms]

I said men, not boys.

[originallutece]

You're going to hurt Tony's feelings, Fawkes.

[roseblooms]

Do you frequently show him your text messages? I wasn't aware.

[originallutece]

Hardly. But we cover a range of topics at dinner. You come up, and suddenly it's "my assistant said the rudest thing yesterday . . ."

[roseblooms]

So you're going to tattle on me. ME, your favorite assistant.

1/2

[originallutece]

I'm not twelve, I'm not going to tattle on anyone.

[originallutece]

I'm going to gossip about you.

[roseblooms]

I'm wounded, mortally, to the very core.

[originallutece]

And yet you're still talking to me. Which, by the way: don't you have class tomorrow? Shouldn't I be scolding you for not being in bed? Don't mistake me, I welcome the conversation, but it's fairly late for you.

[roseblooms]

I am in bed. I'm not ASLEEP, naturally, being that we're talking, but I'm decidedly in bed.

I prefer the conversation anyway.

[originallutece]

I'm flattered.

Back to your original theory: you realize you've just signed yourself up for spending more time with me. This may cut into your Starcraft time.

[roseblooms]

Do men play Starcraft? I was under the impression that men are required to engage in somewhat different pursuits, such as smoking cigars, wearing three-piece suits, and potentially engaging in debonair acts of international espionage.

[originallutece]

They don't if they want to continue to talk to me. I can't stand the smell of cigars.

[Cigarettes, on the other hand . . .]

Anyway, nothing says you can't engage in the other two and play Starcraft.

[roseblooms]

You want me to wear a three-piece suit and engage in a debonair act of international espionage while playing Starcraft?

That's quite a lot of multitasking.

[originallutece]

I didn't mean at once, I meant you can engage in all of those things as a person.

[roseblooms]

I'm alarmed that you're still encouraging me toward acts of international espionage.

[originallutece]

Everyone ought to have a hobby where they meet interesting people.