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Rosalind Lutece

Doctor of physics, professor at Recollé University.

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You ought to choose a name now. Once you finally remember its true name, we can see if your inclinations are the same.

What, a name right now? You've put me on the spot, Rosalind.

Spot, perhaps?

That's misleading. It didn't have any spots to begin with. It was black as night, nothing more complicated than that.

Midnight, then?

You don't think that might be a bit too... on-the-nose? Besides, names like that are reserved for knights in shining armor and their trustworthy steeds.

Ardyn, my branch of science once named something 'The Enormous Theorem' because it was indeed a theorem that was enormous. We're not known for being creative. Besides, I'm trying to inspire you to come up with something better; the bar can't be any lower.

You're trying to inspire me with "Midnight".

Very well. Consider:

-Sable
-Nyx
-Twilight
-Somnus
-Tenebra

[These are such final fantasy names, sorry not sorry. ~~one of them actually IS one~~. The list continues. These are increasingly less serious.]

-Astrum
-Medela
-Speedy
-Fluffy
-Kwehson
-Sir Warkington

Frankly, I'd assume the last was the one you truly chose. It seems precisely your sense of humor.

Come on, Ros. It's a /little/ funny.

Did I say it wasn't? I can appreciate your sense of humor at times, even if those times are few and far between.

What the hell is Kwehson supposed to mean?

Perhaps with time these instances will happen more frequently. [lighten up ros]

"Kweh!" is a noise a chocobo makes, if you haven't noticed. "-son" is a common addition to a family surname; Son of Kweh. Kwehson.

I suppose it's a last name, at any rate.

Sir Warkington Kwehson.

[OH NO SHE LAUGHED AT THAT AND HE DIDN'T EVEN GET TO HEAR]

I don't go near any animal larger than a dog, as a rule.

You're absolutely ridiculous.

[DAMMIT A MISSED OPPORTUNITY]

The chocobos are harmless, despite their size. I rather have a fondness for them now.

And you wouldn't have me any other way, would you?

They're great bloody birds, I'm not about to risk one getting frightened and charging.

And no, I wouldn't. Though I'm going to be quite disappointed if you don't get another cat and name it that, now.

I have three cats already, Rosalind. They already attempt to murder me each morning; why would I want a fourth?

Because you're the kind of man to have three cats. You're going to end up adopting a fourth regardless.

Then you're wrong. My generosity can only extend so far.

[or can it]

It'll be a black cat. It'll be missing some kind of appendage, and it'll run into you on the street, and you won't be able to resist.

I already have a black cat.

[Though that's not what she was saying, exactly, and he knows it.]

It'll mew at you and be utterly spoilt by the end of the week.

You don't know that for a fact.

Why is everyone under the impression that I'm so soft at heart?

[BECAUSE YOU KIND OF ARE?]

Because you have three cats and you refused to even let me cut my finger in the name of scientific experiment.

Three cats might just mean that I'm a "crazy cat person" at heart.

[Ignoring the cutting the finger bit.]

Ardyn.