originallutece | (no subject)

[She likes Mohammed, for the record. She really does. He's intelligent and sensible, two traits she values above all else. Retrospec adventures aside, they don't really socialize much outside of the library, but she still thinks nothing of it when he asks to meet with her. She doesn't even think much of that kindness with the coffee, save for how nice it is when someone else volunteers to get it.

More fool her.

She's settled back comfortably in her chair, her slender fingers wrapped around the tainted coffee.]

What precisely did you want to discuss? A memory of your own, or something else?

[Absently, she takes a sip.

And stops.

And stares, her eyes widening before narrowing sharply. The taste is horrid, absolutely awful, a disgusting swirl of salt and bitterness, and she actually gags, but she isn't about to spit it back out. Oh, no. No, no. Rosalind stares coldly at Mohammed and then, with a great force of effort, swallows the concoction.]

[He slides into his seat, the untainted coffee in the middle of her desk. Looking her in the eye as she drinks is an admission of guilt.]

Powers. There have been talks about receiving powers, and I am gaining those that I saw in my visions.

[He catches her freezing up from the corner of his eye and looks up. The gig is up.]

Here, this one should be better. [He slides the other coffee cup closer to her.] It's exactly the same, only sweeter.

Oh, is it? How kind.

[She manages to sneer that out before grabbing for the sweeter coffee, and oh, thank god, it really is sweeter. Rosalind lets the first mouthful linger on her tongue for a long few seconds before swallowing.]

And what precisely was the point of that? --no. I know the answer. For god's sake, could you not have played a prank on someone who deserved it?

[Fortunately, Dr. Lutece understands the circumstances under which he was pressured to hand her foul coffee. That helps with explaining half of the situations.]

The tile said to play a prank on an authority figure. [He sits back, hands folded on the desk. Despite the initial apprehension, he finds that he's enjoying this.] I wouldn't dare do this to some off Retrospec.

You could have dared. I certainly wouldn't have minded.

[HUFF HUFF ugh at least the taste doesn't linger.]

Do you truly want to discuss powers?

Yes, it's not a cover for the coffee. I just thought I could use the opportunity.

[It would be pretty awkward if he leaves right now.]

Specifically, I've begun receiving the pyrokinesis powers I saw in my visions, and with the others with superpowers, I have suspicions about what Retrospec is doing.

. . . tell me your suspicions, then.

[She's still annoyed, but now there's interest in her gaze as well.]

And will you give me a demonstration of those pyrokinesis powers?

...There's a lot that I have to sort through, but from what I learned by speaking to the others, many of us are getting visions of fantasy settings and people with superpowers, but they don't blend together well. I've read theories about Recolle being a computer simulation and these visions are memories of the real world, which doesn't account for those that recall events from World War II.

[Naoro's Matrix theory is far-fetched enough, but pulling people from different times to hook them up to a hyper-realistic simulation sounds like more trouble than it's worth.]

I can't figure out Retrospec's ultimate goal, but if they're behind the packages, and these powers are due to the app...are they experimenting with giving us magic abilities? Pyrokinesis, summoning spirits, time manipulation, lighting...it's like we're supposed to use them for some greater purpose.

[He holds his hand over the desk.]

At most, I can make a small flame with my Persona, but it should be safe as long as I'm not near any important papers.

. . . not here, then. Come on.

[She stands, leading them out towards the hallway. It's not necessarily safer, but at least he won't burn anything she wants.]

. . . as for Retrospec's meaning behind the gift-giving . . . perhaps. I don't believe this is a computer simulation, but they might be gradually trying to prepare certain people for something. Or simply seeing how they react to having them.

[A hallway fire would be more dangerous, but there are fewer books that will kindle a blaze gone out of control. Ideally, Mohammed wants to summon Magician's Red in the lobby where there is room for the firebird to stand safely, but he'll see where Professor Lutece will take him.]

That's what I'm most worried about. What are they preparing us for? Why did they pick us? Are the memories supposed to teach us where these powers come from?

[His eyes watch the floor.]

The man who I imagine myself as in my visions is a little similar to me. We both grew up in Cairo, though I moved when I was younger, and we both are fond of traveling. But unlike some of the others, I cannot see myself and he as the same person.

How so?

[She watches him carefully, her gaze curious but not particularly sharp. Taking a step forward, she watches his hands carefully, waiting for the flames to appear.]

I think it's only a coincidence that we were both from Cairo, but the man in my visions travels around the world and...apart from the powers he comes from a world exactly like this one, only a few decades in the past.

[He can't exactly pinpoint the year, but there was one old electronic timetable at the airport. There was nothing in that Japanese house he and Joseph were inside to give a straight answer.

But now it's time to focus on his Persona. He closes his eyes and imagines Magician's Red as it manifests in his head. As his body grows warmer, a rush of energy flows up to his head, where a screeching bird-man erupts in flames.

No one else in the hallway notices the man on fire.]

[It's not the first Persona that she's seen, but that doesn't mean she's used to them. Rosalind jerks in shock, staring up at Magician's Red in fascinated shock. It's not half as monstrous as Souji's creatures, but there's something unnerving about the bird's head emerging from the man's body. Rosalind's face has gone pale, but after a moment she steps forward, one hand reaching to try and touch if she can.]

Do you feel the heat? The flames?

[Magician's Red splits from his user and floats just above the ground, its harsh eyes watching Rosalind with a protective glare.]

A bit. He doesn't feel very strong, but I may have gotten used to the heat by now.

[When Rosalind puts her hand near the Stand, she can feel a stark temperature difference, though it's more warm than hot.]