[Faolan nods, stepping forward, his hands in his pockets as they begin to pick their way towards the food. It's not his money, while he's escorting Laurent out and about like this.]
The theory of parallel universes. Do you mean the previous lives thing?
[Had Dave really been telling him the truth and not just a weird kid spouting things about rave turkeys and being able to fly after all?]
There's quite a few theories bouncing around here, as I said. Past lives is one of them. Other selves is another. My personal theory is that . . .
[Hm. Rosalind brushes her hand against his arm, bringing them both to a halt, and glances around. There's a piece of driftwood not too far away, and she grabs it, using it to draw in the sand.]
All right. The theory of parallel universes-- or the multiverse theory, if you prefer-- is that for every decision made, every possible outcome of a scenario, there is a universe where the opposite occurred.
[She draws a stick figure man.]
Let's take our current situation. Will you buy me food or a drink? Let's say here, now, you buy me a drink. The theory suggests that in another, you'll buy me food. Not such a radical change, but imagine . . . oh, imagine I spill my drink over myself, and you have to take me home. Taking me home means you've just missed some vital clue that's part of a larger plot to harm your charge, but staying here, you've found it.
Decisions have implications. Even the most minor change can alter things radically. And for every decision, every minor factor, there's another world.
[Faolan stares down at her drawing in the sand as he tries to comprehend just everything he's telling her. And he had thought that past lives was a difficult concept to wrap his head around.]
So far, I think so. I'm just not certain what you're trying to say, exactly.
[Also he doesn't like the idea that there should be any reality in which he allows something to happen to Laurent, truth be told.]
[She takes a step back, moving so she can keep drawing in the sand.]
We've no idea how universes work, of course. We have theories, and those theories have scattered bits of evidence, but there's no definitive facts yet. However. Some people theorize universes are like this: all of them floating around, never quite touching one another, each a little world all its own.
So what happens when two bump together?
[She draws a few circles in the sand, each no more than half an inch in distance from one another. Beneath them, she draws two circles, their edges bumping against one another.]
We don't know. We have theories, and even a few things we think might be evidence, but we don't know. But my theory is that what happens is what's happening now: that we're starting to remember not only our lives, but the lives of our selves from another universe.
[Faolan repeats the words, weighing the thought of it over in his head as he does. He looks down at the circles she's drawn in the sand, the separate ones, and the ones that touch, then glances up at her. He can't believe he's even considering the possibility of this being true, but this is part of what he does. He has to gather all the facts and weigh them against one another to choose the best course of action from there, for both himself and for Laurent.]
Let's say that you're right. That these separate universes exist all on their own, and that whatever is happening here is the result of two of them meeting one another. [He frowns.] Is that not... Dangerous, in some fashion?
[She straightens up again, dropping the driftwood to the ground.]
The fact of the matter is, we can't be sure. Perhaps it would destroy the universe. Perhaps it would leave metaphoric bruises behind - we think we might have seen that in some of our readings. And perhaps it just means there's bleedthrough between the walls of reality, so that we're all reeling from trying to remember two different lives.
[Did you know I'm not just bullshitting? Science is fucking wild, man.]
Which isn't particularly assuring, I know, but take comfort in the fact that it's been happening to some of us for half a year now, with no real ill effects.
I suppose... [He gives her a somewhat dubious look. He's a bodyguard, he's supposed to protect people from dangerous happenings. How in the hell is he supposed to protect Laurent from this though?]
I did speak to someone who had said that it all started around February. About the same time that that company came into business. Is that when... For you as well? How long have you been here, in the city?
[Us expats have to stick together and all that, even if he is technically from Ireland and thus a different country than herself.]
[Faolan glances to where she has nodded, and then with a bob of his head he steps forward with her in that direction.]
'You get used to it.' I don't know whether that's all that comforting a thought or not. I don't know whether I really want to get used to it. I'm a bodyguard. I feel like being suspicious of everything is rather part of the job description.
I hope you do not take this in the wrong light, but I am a bodyguard and thus fairly confident in my abilities to defend myself against you. And I've got an eye on him.
[Laurent. He's careful not to go too far that they lose sight of his young charge.]
He's probably welcoming the room to breathe without be so nearby, truth be told.
[Her mouth twitches, and she glances up at him with a raised eyebrow.]
I more meant oughtn't you be keeping an eye on him, not I might be a threat, but I appreciate the call to reality. How do you ensure he's safe at this distance?
[He twitches something of a smile in return. Oops...]
He'll be fine. I've got a good eye on him, and I'd be more concerned for anyone he manages to corner than for Laurent himself. [He shrugs slightly.] I think it'll be better if he gets the moment to himself, anyway. He's not been exactly receptive to the idea of having a bodyguard. Not everyone welcomes the idea of a permanent shadow.
[Faolan shoots her a sideways glance, obviously weighing up how much to tell her and how much to hold back. He's a good bodyguard, and Laurent's safety is a constant priority, but his identity is no secret. Especially not if he is to be attending the same university that this woman teaches at.]
He left the country and his brother's security so that he might study abroad here. [He spreads his hands wide to indicate the city of Recolle itself.]
This -- or I suppose you could say I -- was his compromise.
He's twenty years old, and now he has a permanent shadow. I think he's taken to it just about as well as anyone in his position can. Some days are better than others.
[He sticks his hands in his pockets, shrugging slightly as they walk.] Some days I think he's purposely trying to get me sacked.
Edited (needs to be more british) 2017-07-29 23:56 (UTC)
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no subject
The theory of parallel universes. Do you mean the previous lives thing?
[Had Dave really been telling him the truth and not just a weird kid spouting things about rave turkeys and being able to fly after all?]
no subject
There's quite a few theories bouncing around here, as I said. Past lives is one of them. Other selves is another. My personal theory is that . . .
[Hm. Rosalind brushes her hand against his arm, bringing them both to a halt, and glances around. There's a piece of driftwood not too far away, and she grabs it, using it to draw in the sand.]
All right. The theory of parallel universes-- or the multiverse theory, if you prefer-- is that for every decision made, every possible outcome of a scenario, there is a universe where the opposite occurred.
[She draws a stick figure man.]
Let's take our current situation. Will you buy me food or a drink? Let's say here, now, you buy me a drink. The theory suggests that in another, you'll buy me food. Not such a radical change, but imagine . . . oh, imagine I spill my drink over myself, and you have to take me home. Taking me home means you've just missed some vital clue that's part of a larger plot to harm your charge, but staying here, you've found it.
Decisions have implications. Even the most minor change can alter things radically. And for every decision, every minor factor, there's another world.
Still with me?
no subject
So far, I think so. I'm just not certain what you're trying to say, exactly.
[Also he doesn't like the idea that there should be any reality in which he allows something to happen to Laurent, truth be told.]
no subject
We've no idea how universes work, of course. We have theories, and those theories have scattered bits of evidence, but there's no definitive facts yet. However. Some people theorize universes are like this: all of them floating around, never quite touching one another, each a little world all its own.
So what happens when two bump together?
[She draws a few circles in the sand, each no more than half an inch in distance from one another. Beneath them, she draws two circles, their edges bumping against one another.]
We don't know. We have theories, and even a few things we think might be evidence, but we don't know. But my theory is that what happens is what's happening now: that we're starting to remember not only our lives, but the lives of our selves from another universe.
no subject
[Faolan repeats the words, weighing the thought of it over in his head as he does. He looks down at the circles she's drawn in the sand, the separate ones, and the ones that touch, then glances up at her. He can't believe he's even considering the possibility of this being true, but this is part of what he does. He has to gather all the facts and weigh them against one another to choose the best course of action from there, for both himself and for Laurent.]
Let's say that you're right. That these separate universes exist all on their own, and that whatever is happening here is the result of two of them meeting one another. [He frowns.] Is that not... Dangerous, in some fashion?
no subject
[She straightens up again, dropping the driftwood to the ground.]
The fact of the matter is, we can't be sure. Perhaps it would destroy the universe. Perhaps it would leave metaphoric bruises behind - we think we might have seen that in some of our readings. And perhaps it just means there's bleedthrough between the walls of reality, so that we're all reeling from trying to remember two different lives.
[Did you know I'm not just bullshitting? Science is fucking wild, man.]
Which isn't particularly assuring, I know, but take comfort in the fact that it's been happening to some of us for half a year now, with no real ill effects.
no subject
I did speak to someone who had said that it all started around February. About the same time that that company came into business. Is that when... For you as well? How long have you been here, in the city?
[Us expats have to stick together and all that, even if he is technically from Ireland and thus a different country than herself.]
no subject
[She nods towards the boardwalk, indicating that they ought to keep going.]
It's frustrating. I shan't deny that. But you learn to . . . I shan't say accept it. But at least get used to it.
no subject
'You get used to it.' I don't know whether that's all that comforting a thought or not. I don't know whether I really want to get used to it. I'm a bodyguard. I feel like being suspicious of everything is rather part of the job description.
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I hope you do not take this in the wrong light, but I am a bodyguard and thus fairly confident in my abilities to defend myself against you. And I've got an eye on him.
[Laurent. He's careful not to go too far that they lose sight of his young charge.]
He's probably welcoming the room to breathe without be so nearby, truth be told.
no subject
I more meant oughtn't you be keeping an eye on him, not I might be a threat, but I appreciate the call to reality. How do you ensure he's safe at this distance?
no subject
He'll be fine. I've got a good eye on him, and I'd be more concerned for anyone he manages to corner than for Laurent himself. [He shrugs slightly.] I think it'll be better if he gets the moment to himself, anyway. He's not been exactly receptive to the idea of having a bodyguard. Not everyone welcomes the idea of a permanent shadow.
no subject
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He left the country and his brother's security so that he might study abroad here. [He spreads his hands wide to indicate the city of Recolle itself.]
This -- or I suppose you could say I -- was his compromise.
no subject
[After all, there's not many who would take well to being watched, whether it was for their own good or not.]
no subject
He's twenty years old, and now he has a permanent shadow. I think he's taken to it just about as well as anyone in his position can. Some days are better than others.
[He sticks his hands in his pockets, shrugging slightly as they walk.] Some days I think he's purposely trying to get me sacked.
no subject
Surely you won't be outwitted by a twenty year old.
no subject
You have obviously not yet met Laurent.
[He is... A force to be reckoned with, putting it mildly.]