originallutece | (no subject)

You spoke to Professor Izunia about me?

[Well, that gets him to look surprised, to say the least.]

...For what it's worth, I can honestly say I've never felt pressured to...well, to do any of what you're describing, really. I know you have too much integrity to cheapen the value of someone's academic accomplishments with that sort of external pressure.

[She hums softly in agreement. Of course she'd never do such a thing, but at the same time, it would be terribly easy to accidentally fall into such a trap-- hence why she keeps asking him.]

I'm glad.

[This isn't the last time they're going to have this conversation, she's certain. But for the moment, it's best if they let it be-- and in the meantime, perhaps she can try and ease things between them another way.]

. . . you texted me with a game. Would you mind if I engaged you in another?

Oh.

[Oh. Well, that's a segue, all right, and not at all an unpleasant one, either.]

I wouldn't mind. What sort of game?

Tell me something about yourself. Inane or serious, I don't care what, but something I don't yet know. And in return, I'll do the same. A fact for a fact, does that sound fair?

Ah.

[Well, that's easy enough. He ponders a moment, trying to decide on something worth telling. Inane or serious, she'd said, but his impulse is to go for a little of both.]

I...my birthday, it's December 29th.

[That's certainly a little of both.]

[It's not compulsory, but still Rosalind casts her mind about for something vaguely related to that.]

I broke my arm on my thirteenth birthday.

You broke your arm?

[!!]

How?

I was hiding. My mother and I had gotten into another argument, and rather than stay at my family party, I ran off to sulk. I usually spent my free time reading in hiding anyway, so I grabbed a book and climbed my usual tree.

It had been raining the night before. I got fairly high up, slipped on a wet branch, and had to endure my mother being smugly self-righteous for the next six weeks.

What a shame you didn't have someone to catch you.

[It's an odd thing to say, maybe, and yet he doesn't precisely regret it, either — and in fact finds himself leaning just a little bit forward, gravitating toward her.]

Not that it likely would've helped much, but even so.

[Oh, that's a lovely thought, isn't it?]

Well. I'll be certain to keep you around the next time I climb a tree, hm?

Your turn.

Likely we'd both end up with broken bones, if you were counting on me for that.

I...oh. Ah, if I'd been born a girl, my mother would've given me a Japanese name instead of an English one. She thought it would've been harder on a girl to be an obvious foreigner, moreso than a boy.

I imagine she was likely right. Did she pick out a specific name?

"Hana", I think, was one of the top contenders. Written with the characters for "one" and "love".

[Oh. Oh, that's sweet, and Rosalind leans forward, genuinely interested.]

How do you write your name? What-- what characters are used, I mean.

Ah — the ones for "eternal", "clever", and "revived". It's not easy to write a Western name in kanji, but Mother did pick them out even so.

You should show me soon.

[But not right now. She's a bit too comfortable to get up and grab a notepad.]

That's two I owe you, now, isn't it? Let's see . . . I once promised a friend of mine I'd get a tattoo, though thank god I never went through with it. And . . .

Ah. And I can sing.

So you're saying you broke your promise?

[He'll touch that second one in a minute.]

I didn't break it.

[That's just a touch indignant for the way he's looking at her.]

We never ended up going out and getting drunk. I suppose it's still in the air, it's not as if we don't still spend time together.

[Sordid stories from the professor office.]

Oh. Was this with, um.

[He hesitates, grasping mentally for the name he wants.]

...Victoria?

Er.

[For a moment she hesitates, but, well, friends tell each other about work, don't they?]

Ardyn and Jack, actually.

[Professors Izunia and Dawson, in other words.]

Although that would be perfectly in-line for Victoria, frankly, so well done.

What! Which of them wanted you to get the — oh, wait, no, it was Professor Dawes, wasn't it.

Of course it was.

[She wrinkles her nose.]

Back when we were all shrunk to six inches. A spider attacked, he grabbed me and we dove into a crack in the sidewalk. While we were waiting for the spider to leave us be, we started talking, and it ended in him . . .

[She hesitates again.]

Rather daring me to get one, with the understanding that if I didn't, I'd be too scared to do it. I'm a bit too competitive for my own good, so before I knew it I'd agreed.

Oh, I see. He played you like a kazoo, then.

[FAWKES.]

He did not!

He absolutely did. You're far more than "a bit" too competitive for your own good.