[At least she seems to have calmed down. Rosalind tips her head, a slight smile coming to her face as she watches him settle in. And ah, there's the arrogance, clear in the way she holds herself.]
If they can't, they're not worth my time, are they?
[Ardyn is not at all surprised by this rather haughty statement. He should be, but he isn't.]
No, I suppose they aren't. Your standards are about as high as I'd expect them to be. Though I do wonder how many dates you manage to find for yourself that you consider... ah, "worth your time"?
[It's reasoning that's fair enough, and Ardyn can't fault her if she seems satisfied by it. He quirks a brow when the question is returned to him, clearly entertained that he's expected to describe his own tastes.]
Ah, well- [He feigns thinking about it for a bit, though in reality the answer comes swiftly enough to his mind.] Intellect is key. Someone who can keep up a clever repartee is just as important, which in turn means that they share my particular brand of humor.
And, I suppose, they must be a patient sort. That or easily unfazed. I hear my personality can be frustrating at times, you know.
[It takes her a moment, but oh, she remembers her. They've spoken on the network a few times, and while Rosalind can't say she knows her all the well, she'd enjoyed the few conversations she has had.
Her smile has softened. It's not a grin, not anymore. She honestly just seems happy for him.]
Well, you asked what it was I looked for in a person, didn't you? Apply all of those descriptions to her, and you've got the general idea. And then... [His eyes fall onto some nondescript part of the wall, as he explains, that amused smiles still on his features.] She's striking, intelligent, and possesses a flair for the dramatic that I appreciate. And she's been able to put up with me for an extended period of time.
My love life is currently nonexistent, unless you want to hear about Carter's latest passes towards me.
[--actually. She smiles faintly.]
He did something quite sweet for me the other day, actually. He gave me the key towards a collection full of rare books and manuscripts that I can peruse anytime I like.
Well, I didn't bed him afterwards, so you can determine for yourself if that's a success or not.
[But she's still smiling. Rosalind hops up on the counter, settling in.]
But it was . . . ah, it was the night I remembered my gentleman. We tend to go out to dinner once or twice a month, but that night Tony did his best to distract me. We went to dinner, yes, and then he brought me to a concert hall of all things, and then . . . he has a friend, apparently, who collects old books and manuscripts. Writings. Works from Galileo and Curie and and Darwin, all mine for the looking. And he gave me a key, so I can go back whenever I'd like.
[Certainly for the evening. Thoughts of him had crept back once she'd settled down to go to sleep, but that was an inevitability, and no distraction in the world would have stopped that.]
Truth be told, I don't quite understand why he does the things he does. Which, don't misunderstand me, doesn't mean I don't enjoy them. But you're right: it is a romantic gesture. And yet . . . that's not what we are.
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If they can't, they're not worth my time, are they?
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No, I suppose they aren't. Your standards are about as high as I'd expect them to be. Though I do wonder how many dates you manage to find for yourself that you consider... ah, "worth your time"?
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[And really, there haven't been very many, but Rosalind doesn't seem too bothered by that.]
And what about you? If we're going to gossip, it's got to go two ways. What is it you look for when you're eyeing someone up?
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Ah, well- [He feigns thinking about it for a bit, though in reality the answer comes swiftly enough to his mind.] Intellect is key. Someone who can keep up a clever repartee is just as important, which in turn means that they share my particular brand of humor.
And, I suppose, they must be a patient sort. That or easily unfazed. I hear my personality can be frustrating at times, you know.
[really tho ardyn just say grell]
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And we were so compatible right up until then.
[She gives a mocking little sigh, her wry humor apparently returned to her.]
I think I'd end up killing you after two weeks, but what a lovely two weeks they'd be.
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What a shame. [He laughs as well, good-humored as it is.]
As lovely as it might be, I can't help but think that murder would ruin the romance.
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[She grins over her tea.]
Besides, don't focus on the negatives. Focus on the two weeks. We'd be wonderful together, we could annoy the entire city together.
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Two weeks of bliss? Of annoying bliss to everyone else, at any rate.
[A gesture of a hand.]
And if I were a free man, it would be something to consider. However, I doubt a certain someone would take very kindly to the notion.
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Who!
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Curious, are you? Maybe I should keep you in suspense for a bit longer.
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[Don't start, buddy.]
After all that nonsense with Fawkes, the very least you can do is give me a name.
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[Said with a lilt, as if he's doing her a favor by admitting to it.]
Dr. Grell Sutcliffe.
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Her smile has softened. It's not a grin, not anymore. She honestly just seems happy for him.]
How long has this gone on, then?
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[Not so much now, but well, funny how these things work out. Regardless, he sees recognition in her features, so of course he feels inclined to ask.]
Do you know her? She's someone who's also been graced by the app known as Retrospec, so perhaps you recognize the name?
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[But now she sure has some more motivation.]
Tell me about her.
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Well, you asked what it was I looked for in a person, didn't you? Apply all of those descriptions to her, and you've got the general idea. And then... [His eyes fall onto some nondescript part of the wall, as he explains, that amused smiles still on his features.] She's striking, intelligent, and possesses a flair for the dramatic that I appreciate. And she's been able to put up with me for an extended period of time.
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[She really is, too.]
You deserve to be happy.
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[His smile softens just a little, and only for a short moment, but he's quick to look at her again.]
But come now, that's enough sentimentality for the day. We were supposed to be talking about your love life, not mine.
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[--actually. She smiles faintly.]
He did something quite sweet for me the other day, actually. He gave me the key towards a collection full of rare books and manuscripts that I can peruse anytime I like.
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Oh? And that sounds like a very successful "pass" if you don't mind me saying so.
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[But she's still smiling. Rosalind hops up on the counter, settling in.]
But it was . . . ah, it was the night I remembered my gentleman. We tend to go out to dinner once or twice a month, but that night Tony did his best to distract me. We went to dinner, yes, and then he brought me to a concert hall of all things, and then . . . he has a friend, apparently, who collects old books and manuscripts. Writings. Works from Galileo and Curie and and Darwin, all mine for the looking. And he gave me a key, so I can go back whenever I'd like.
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[But, you know, given what she's just told him, it was probably a success either way.]
You have to admit that is a rather romantic gesture. Not to mention I bet you were as giddy as a schoolgirl.
Did it work? Distracting you, I mean.
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[Certainly for the evening. Thoughts of him had crept back once she'd settled down to go to sleep, but that was an inevitability, and no distraction in the world would have stopped that.]
Truth be told, I don't quite understand why he does the things he does. Which, don't misunderstand me, doesn't mean I don't enjoy them. But you're right: it is a romantic gesture. And yet . . . that's not what we are.
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[He's curious, and not necessarily in a teasing way this time.]
Or have you delegated him into the category of... well. "Just friends"?
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[She shrugs.]
Not that way. And again: while I am fond of him, the drinking is a bit much.
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