retrospec | (no subject)

(no subject)

I know we've all been a bit distracted lately, not only from the abrupt loss of two colors from the spectrum, but all the usual school madness that occurs in June. Grades are coming in, summer sessions are about to begin, and that's an understandably stressful time.

[To say nothing of sleep loss. Rosalind certainly looks exhausted as she glowers into the camera. Behind her, chalkboards are filled with equations, and someone with a particularly clever mind might be able to spot a trend towards space and time.]

However. Let me give a few of you a piece of advice. I know several of you are in university right now, or about to graduate high school and enter into it. If you ever send a professor who failed you something like what I'm about to attach, you will not change their minds. Point in fact, they'll be even more determined to fail you. I know I certainly am, and I'm not even the one dealing with this right now.

Rosalind Lutece shared a photo.
6/16 near Recolle University

Honestly, I preferred the bribes to this.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Bruh.

[That's it, that's his response.]

I'm going to make sure he takes your class next.

By all means, please send him my way. A student like that? I see nothing more than amusement in my future.

[At whose expense, though.]

You say that now, but if you complain, I reserve the right to say I told you so. He's the worst kind of student.

In ways beyond hoping for you to pass him with the usage of the word "bruh"?

General and persistent entitlement with little to no effort, coupled with an inherent belief that I ought to pass him based on either his looks, his family name or the fact that he's on a sports team.

[Hooboy, he laughs at that.]

Oh, in that case -- please, Rosalind, send him to the law building. I do love students with a sense of entitlement. He may leave my class a changed man... one way or another.

[ardyn izunia: true ff antagonist in the classroom]

[Okay, wait, no, that makes her smile. She can't actually transfer a student into the law department, but she badly wishes she could. She adores Ardyn, but never more so than when he's in menacing professor mode.]

If he comes to visit one last time, I'll call you over, how about that? I do so love watching you work, especially when you get vicious.

[Alas, one can dream. Maybe this student will suddenly feel an inclination towards law overnight and fate can conveniently place him in his classroom.]

Vicious? [Not at all true. A little true. Okay, 100 percent correct.] You wound me. I'm nothing short of a very gentle professor.

But to answer your question, yes, that'll work.

A very gentle professor, is that really the lie we're going with nowadays?

And now you're calling me a liar. I don't think I can take this kind of character assassination.

You'd never last in the physics department with this kind of thin skin.

What can I say? I'm a sensitive soul. Let me stick to my law books, my court cases, and my litigation. Science is beyond me.

[Speaking of. He's noticed that blackboard, by the by. Not that he can actually parse any of it.]

You wield it with more grace than I ever can. Been busy, Rosalind?

[There's the familiar little smile as he compliments her. It's not such a surprise, not anymore, but still there's always going to be some small part of her soul that expects scorn, not praise, when it comes to the sciences.

Anyway.]

Yes.

[And boy, are her eyes gleaming.]

Come by when you can. I want to show you in person.

[He knows that look. For good or ill, it always promises something interesting.

So he just grins with some expectancy.]

Give me an hour, and I'll be there if you're willing to wait?

An hour. I'll have everything ready by then.

["Everything" mostly consists of a bunch of chalkboards gathered together, but whatever! She's excited! Let her be dramatic!]

[An hour later it is, then! Here comes Ardyn, sauntering in to meet her just as promised.]

I cannot handle the suspense any longer. Tell me what it is you're up to, or I'll burst.

[Dramatics and over-exaggerations, as usual. But! He really is curious.]

[He'll burst? She'll burst; really, she's all but buzzing as he comes to her classroom. Rosalind only waits long enough to ensure he's close enough to see and hear everything, then launches right in:]

I remembered another thing. A vital thing, that other woman, she studied parallel universes. She devoted her entire life to them, and what's better: she had proof on them. Solid proof, confirming the theory.

[She waits, eyes darting about his face, trying to see if the implications will sink in. If a woman in another universe had confirmation parallel universes existed . . .]

[Rosalind's energy is almost overwhelming. It doesn't take long for Ardyn to sit on the edge of a desk, leaning back with a palm flat against the cool surface.]

Parallel universes? [And yes, the realization does hit him, and it's noticeable in the way his expression changes into something considering.]

And so you're... [He waves a hand in the air, a vague gesture. He doesn't possess the same sort of scientific colloquialisms that she does.] ...saying that you're another... ah, version of this woman?

[Is he right?]

Yes!

[She doesn't mean to answer so eagerly, but she can't help it. This is the first real breakthrough she's had when it comes to this app; she's going to ride this high as long as it lasts.]

We all must be-- not of her, obviously, but I think what this app must be showing us are echoes of memories from selves from parallel universes. A world where your healing abilities are possible, where you were some other man who is and yet is not you . . . a world where I was studying this very phenomenon and found proof of it . . . god, Ardyn, if this is true, can you imagine what it might mean when we start remembering more?

[She's the very image of eager, while Ardyn remains sitting still. Not because this isn't a sort of theory to be excited about, but only because he's... trying to parse this. If it's true, this idea of parallel universes and a man existing out there that was him and yet wasn't.]

It means that the line will be blurred. That I'm going to start experiencing the memories of a man with whom I have no business with, honestly.

[No business, but he'd lie if he said he wasn't curious.]

Why, though? Why would Retrospec try to do this? What have they to gain from it, if it's true? And...

[He waves at the chalkboard. At the multitudes of them.]

Have you proven it yourself, as well?

Not yet.

[A fact that's discouraging, but not so much so she's defeated. Rosalind absently pushes a stray lock of hair back, leaving a chalk smudge on her face in its place.]

But if she can figure it out, I most certainly can. I now know that it's possible; the trick is simply to figure out the method. And it's not an unresearched topic . . . the subject has fascinated scientists for decades. I have the benefit of being able to build off others.

[Her eyes dart over the chalkboards. There's a lot of erased equations there, numbers crossed out and redrawn, frantic notes scribbled in corners and on papers scattered over her desk.]

As for why . . . I should think the fact that they could at all would be incentive enough. Perhaps we're guinea pigs.

Ah... guinea pigs. [And in one surprisingly swift movement for a man of his stature, Ardyn stands to his feet again, straightening and making his way to her. He's digging in his pocket for something.]

Just what I wanted to hear. I do love being someone's science experiment. Having my life tinkered with, given magic I didn't ask for, et cetera, et cetera.

[And out comes a clean handkerchief, folded neatly, and offered to Rosalind. She can try to figure out why he's handing it to her. (The chalk on your face, gurl.)]

For what it's worth, if anyone can figure it out, it's you. But please tell me you've at least slept since this revelation of yours?

[No, clearly, and that's obvious not only from the dark circles under her eyes, but the way she blinks owlishly, first down at the handkerchief and then up at him. What . . .?

Oh. Oh, and she rubs absently at her forehead, trying and failing to get the chalk off.]

I can sleep once I've figured this out. This is too interesting to stop just yet.

[He gives her a look. JUDGING, BRUH.]

And what good will sleep deprivation do you, hm? You can't work on equations if you've passed out on the ground.

Rosalind Lutece shared a photo. 6/16 near Recolle University