originallutece | (no subject)

Rest assured I have no intention of dying tonight, whether it be in a blazing inferno or otherwise.

This is a particularized variety of hell and yet I keep finding myself not entirely sorry that I'm here.

Oh, no? Did you find someone to dance with, or are you just enjoying being back in high school?

Neither, but I never attended a prom of any sort to begin with. The music and noise reminds me vaguely of a few clubs I would sometimes frequent back home...

I don't think it's homesickness inherently, but the familiarity is nice.

Do they not have proms in Japan, or did you not go?

I'm glad, though. I admit, I was afraid you'd be miserable all night.

They don't have them! It's more of a Western tradition, I'm afraid — which I was always a bit upset about. American media made them sound like considerable fun, and formative experiences besides.

You were worried about me?

I hardly want you to have a poor Friday night, and hanging around a bunch of teenagers seemed the right way to it.

(You're in good company, though: I was thirteen and fourteen when I was in the right grades for prom; needless to say, I didn't attend).

(You were THIRTEEN??)

I skipped quite a few grades to enter high school. I started at eleven, finished at fourteen, and took a year and a half off at my mother's insistence before I went to university.

Good lord. I was a fairly advanced student myself, but nothing on the level that you're describing. University at sixteen? Breathtaking.

[There's a bit of a pause as she types and deletes, then tries again, but eventually:]

It didn't come without its drawbacks. I had no idea how to socialize.

For what it's worth, neither do any of the students I've chaperoned tonight.

At least they look the parts. Just imagine a terrified, arrogant fourteen year old in a too expensive dress, and you'll have a perfect picture of how I might have fit in.

Did you dress up?

Oh — hold on, I'll just send you a GPOY.

[Witness him.]

What precisely does that stand for?

[But oh, no, look at him. He's a fairly formal dresser by nature, but this is particularly well done; Rosalind laughs in delight as she looks him over.]

Very handsome, though. I'll be shocked if you don't have all the high schoolers swarming you by the end of the night.

"Gratuitous picture of yourself", I believe. Otherwise known as a selfie, I suppose, but that's a ridiculous term that I hate to indulge.

Believe it or not, I'm actually underdressed. There are children here in tuxedos, of all things.

Selfie > GPOY, in my opinion, but it's not as if I take many either way.

Tuxedos seem a little overdone, especially for boys whose voices haven't yet broken. Do they look as ridiculous as I imagine?

On what grounds do you base your opinion?

They do. Braces and tuxedos are a terribly awkward (and unfortunate) combination.

[It's mean, but she laughs.]

I just like the fact it's a word, not an acronym. There's far too many of those for my liking.

You're a scientist who disapproves of acronyms? Shameful.

Hardly. I have too many of those in my life; I don't want more.

JSYK, they aren't all bad IMO. No need for a HDU, lol.

I'm going to stop talking to you if you don't knock that off. You'll die in a cloud of Axe bodyspray and gangling teenage limbs and I shan't mourn you.

Please don't remind me about the clouds of Axe. I'm trying to ignore it and learning the hard way that it cannot be ignored.

Your poor sense of smell. I wouldn't be surprised if it was still stunned tomorrow.

Which, actually, might end up being a boon once we reach the arcade.

I see you've been doing your research on the typical staples of arcade environments.

And the ambient stench therein.