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Rosalind Lutece

Doctor of physics, professor at Recollé University.

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Is that a fact.

[Heaven knows she feels the same way. She quite likes her job, and that's due to a number of factors and people, but certainly she'd find teaching each class far duller if Fawkes wasn't around.]

I'm glad you won the academic bloodbath, Kit. I truly am.

[She pauses for a long minute, and then adds:]

Tell me: are they truly crowning a royal family there?

[Oh. Well. Thank goodness for the change of subject; he's not really sure what he'd even say in response to that first part, if he were made to. Better to move right along...]

They are. You may be delighted to know that they appear to have crowned a lovely young woman king and she now appears to be using her royal authority in what I can only assume is an attempt to forcibly dismantle the patriarchy.

Well done her. You'd best get out before she starts to choose victims, though; revolution always comes with casualties.

...Are you suggesting she'd mistake me for the patriarchy?

I'm suggesting anyone with the same kinda specs as the sex of men ought to head for the exit rather quickly. I know what I would have done with that kind of power at age sixteen.

Edited 2017-05-14 02:48 (UTC)

That was very poetic, you know.

Are you suggesting I should be afraid for my...specs?

If only I wrote it.

But yes. You should.

...You're starting to frighten me.

I was a very angry teenager.

I just finished telling Professor Izunia how I made a fellow graduate student cry when I was younger, actually, though the methods weren't nearly as physical as this conversation is implying.

Dare I ask how you accomplished that?

I tore apart his thesis point by point in front of our entire class, slowly and methodically proving why the paper he'd agonized over for months was complete rubbish.

...

And I picked you to oversee my dissertation. Magnificent.

You never insinuated I slept my way through graduate school.

...And now I simply question whether your evisceration went far ENOUGH.

His academic reputation was destroyed, not to mention everyone knew him as the man who burst into tears in the midst of a laboratory session. And I sealed my reputation as someone both vastly intelligent and not to cross, so it worked out.

...I'm glad, you know.

I rather like it when stories have happy endings. :)

So do I.

Are you nearly done there?

I am. Things are winding down, and I assume the Prom Committee is responsible for cleaning up, not the volunteer chaperones.

Just so that you know, I have confiscated a BREATHTAKING amount of alcohol this evening.

Be responsible when you consume it tonight. And if you drunkenly text someone, as your professor, I advise that it not be me, but as someone you're being social with? I'd be delighted.

Remind me to draw you a picture of the contraption one of them devised to dispense it.

And I will, of course, ensure that Professor Lutece receives no drunk texts at any time tonight or thereafter.

And Rosalind?

I cannot confirm or deny what R. Lutece might be subject to.

She looks forward to it, then. For now: I'll pick you up around 1:30. Don't forget your sweatshirt.

I shan't — and I'll see you then. :)

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