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Rosalind Lutece

Doctor of physics, professor at Recollé University.

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I doubt they'd listen.

[Hm. Rosalind drums her fingers on her desk, frowning slightly as she tries to think.]

Let's try this: we'll tell each other the memory in as much detail as possible. Not just a description, but as much of what we said and thought and felt as possible. Perhaps we'll trigger it in one another.

That's true, their service is the worst.

[ roxy quirks her side to the month, thinking about that. ]

I dunno, that sounds kind of like. Too easy or like too logical. Have those blue-logo'd dicks ever done things logically? What if it's more like... did you ever see Freaky Friday? The Lindsay Lohan version, I mean.

No.

. . . it can't possibly cover this situation.

I mean. I don't know about you, but I think I may have eaten a, uh, blue fortune cookie when I got the uh memory of... something about sexual interest in a prophet? Who was sterile?? And there was a bastard child??

[ roxy has spent Too Long thinking about how this fits in with cats, pumpkins, acid and other shit and coming up very empty obviously. ]

And, like, fortune cookies. Freaky Friday. I dunno, man.

[Well, she had encountered such a cookie . . . ]

Then what do you suggest we do?

Uhhhh... Hug it out?

[ she is like a solid 30% sure that's how freaky friday ends. she may be misremembering it but it sounds logical?? ]

[She doesn't . . . want to hug anyone . . . it's honestly nothing to do with Roxy, if that's any comfort in the face of her slight grimace.]

Let's try a handshake first, hm?

[ roxy gets it, not everyone is cool with hugging complete strangers (or even people they know). ]

That... might make more sense, yeah. Shake on it?

[ and she will present her hand semi-awkwardly. she is actually better at hugs than handshakes, because she is a fake adult. ]

[Rosalind hesitates for just a moment before taking Roxy's hand. And it's--

She's rather disappointed later that there's nothing to it. No bang, no sparks, no noise or light (not even a miniature earthquake, like, even Lindsay Lohan got that). It's just a feeling, sudden and quiet, of a memory settling into place. Like finally slotting the final puzzle piece into place; Rosalind sighs, her eyes opening.]

I see.

[ an earthquake would have been way cooler, but this is fine. and the memory makes more sense than rosalind's had. a white cat in a party hat. the word motherfuck said by her own voice. it's dumb and all is right with the world. ]

Ok, I guess that worked.

[ roxy will release rosalind's hand with a polite shake. ]

And no one had to even almost marry their mother's bf.

I'm going to assume that was a part of the plot?

[But that's absently said. Rosalind blinks, and then:]

. . . thank you. That was relatively painless, and could have been much worse.

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