scientificflair | 008. [Video/possible action for Goldenrod City, also one other thing]

Entry tags:

008. [Video/possible action for Goldenrod City, also one other thing]

[PRIVATE TEXT TO EMMY ALTAVA]

I have something I would like to ask you, and some further things to discuss. Some more pleasant than others. Do you have time?

[VIDEO]

[Well, if you're familiar with the stores around Goldenrod (or even if you're not, and just happened to wander in there one day by chance) then the chances are good that you're aware of a music shop nestled amongst the larger stores and malls. More specifically and to the point, you may be aware of the piano set up within the shop itself - both for the sake of lessons to those willing to pay, and to advertise others like it for purchase. Descole is in here for neither, though had he the space he wouldn't be terribly opposed to the latter; for the last couple of days, he's come in when business is slow and settled himself behind the keys, sometimes playing, sometimes just running his hands over them lightly. Today, however, he is clearly settling for none of that. The camera clicks on after seeming to have been set up directly alongside the keys, showing nothing but his hands and a bit of the long ruffled sleeves covering the backs of them; he begins playing after a bit, and...uh. It's a bit difficult to say what in the world set him off but he's having at fairly hard and holding absolutely nothing back, his hands fast and firm on the keys. It's not anything classical, or even anything terribly classy; it's somewhat more akin to...well. While it isn't anywhere near exact, it's closer to this than anything.

Yeah. Um. There's probably something to be said for the fact that Descole is baring his soul to the world and it sounds sorta like Skrillex, but we won't go there.

His hands linger on the keys for a moment after the sound dies; the camera angle doesn't adjust any, leaving his face well out of the shot, but after a moment Descole speaks, his tone clipped and more abrupt than usual.

He's clearly a bit stressed; he's doing a terrible job of concealing it.]

I'm looking for ways to further improve myself. Anything at all. Physically, intellectually, I don't particularly care. Tell me what you excel at; I want to hear what your talents are.

I don't care that time doesn't pass back home, not while we're here; there is still such a thing as having been here too long. If I can't return to my life's work...

[He pauses for a moment; without warning, he slams his hands down heavily on the keys, the sudden clash ringing out sharply. One can...pretty much hear the rather alarmed sound of the shopkeeper in the background, telling him to watch it.]

I've had enough. Give me something to pursue.

[And with that, end feed.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[[Emmy is, admittedly, rather excited to get Descole's text; it's been quite a while since she's seen him. Not that she'd....you know, missed him or anything! Honestly.]]

I suppose I might be able to fit you into my busy schedule.

[[Hmm. Hopefully he wouldn't take that too seriously...it was so difficult to be teasing over text!]]

Where would you like to meet?

[...well, at least he has a general understanding that Emmy likes to tease people, should her mood be right; as he hasn't done anything like show up in front of her masquerading as a random blond person in a few months, he imagines that's what this is.

...hopefully that's what this is. Surely she wouldn't be putting the selection of location in his court if she was displeased-

ugh, look he's been overanalyzing everything lately because he is Descole and that is what he does leave him alone]

Assuming you're in Goldenrod again, there was a coffee shop on the northern side of town, if I remember correctly; we've met there before. Does that work for you?

I'm familiar with it, yes. Race you there!

[Well, with any luck you were keen to get this thing started right away, Descole, because there is now textual silence on Emmy's end! Better hurry up!]

[you

what

he

did you just

well.

At least that seems to have gotten rid of whatever nerves were there before, in favor of sheer competitiveness and massive amounts of stupidity because oh like hell he's going to lose to you, Emmy, he doesn't think so. He'll be there in incredibly short order.

...this is boding really well for the entire meeting, isn't it, good lord.]

[Well it just wouldn't be right if things weren't kept a little interesting! Apparently we are just incapable of meeting you like normal people, Descole.

Anyway, having sprinted her little heart out to try and beat her enigmatic companion to the cafe, Emmy has found herself in front of it; she's currently trying to catch her breath, one hand pressed against the unofficial finishing line (aka the cafe door).

What she didn't really expect, however, was to find her fingers somewhat tangled in Descole's - it's impossible to tell who got there first. Without moving, Emmy turns to face him, cheeks slightly red from exertion as her breath comes in soft gasps.]

A-Ah, you....you really raced me....

[That's just met with a...rather self-satisfied smirk as Descole tries to ignore whatever the hell is going on with their hands; he's leaning a bit heavily against the door, his breathing tight as he tries to catch it in a reasonably short period of time, but he seems rather pleased with himself indeed.

...just ignore whatever the hell is going on with their hands, he wasn't expecting her to reach it at the exact same time he did.]

You thought... [He swallows hard, a light laugh nearly escaping him after the fact.] You thought that I would do otherwise...?

W-Well I, I didn't...most people don't....

[This is certainly something new; Emmy is more accustomed to the people around her being inclined to roll their eyes and tell her to slow down, or panic when they think she's being too reckless or going to end up hurting herself, so the fact that...Descole actually raced her properly rather than acting how she expected, it's....

....i-it's....

...w-well it's....it's really quite nice and that colour in her cheeks is due to the physical exertion she's not blushing leave her alone except never leave you actually raced her-]

A-Anyway, I think it's a tie, because I simply can't tell what...what is going on here, so! A tie!

[Quickly untangling her hand, Emmy immediately crosses her arms and shifts slightly on her feet, as if all of Descole's prior nervousness had neatly transferred onto her.

The roof of the cafe is looking particularly nice today, by the way!!]

Shall we enter?

[Well, however nice the roof of the café may have been, Descole isn't paying it much mind; he's a bit distracted by batting at his cape a bit once their hands have been separated, as though ensuring the thing hadn't tangled any. While he's certainly noticed the blush, he's not entirely sure what to do with it, and calling attention to it isn't anything he's exactly inclined to do with now because that would involve dealing with it somehow.

So! Far easier to just...yes. Let's. Just. ...yes.]

Well, I certainly don't intend to stand around outside.

[The comment is dry, though it's free of any sort of genuine bite; just...let him quit leaning against the door long enough to open the damn thing.]

After you, then.

[Blinking in surprise for a moment, Emmy promptly then makes a move to enter the cafe. It's silly being surprised that Descole would hold the door for her; after all, it was the gentlemanly thing to do! But then that line of thinking starts up those uncomfortable 'Descole = gentleman' thoughts that she hasn't entertained in a while. For good reason, too, because if she thinks about it too long the whole meeting seems so silly, but....well, the Professor isn't here any more. At least she doesn't have to explain anything to him.

There's a fairly private table over near one of the windows, and she zips over to it, helping herself to a chair and propping up her head against one hand, pleased to feel the heat dissipating from her face as she begins to calm down.]

So, what would you like to discuss with me? I take it it's more than just your prowess on the piano.

[Which was very impressive, by the way, but you're not getting any straight compliments just yet.]

[...right, that. It's perhaps fortunate that the mask obscures how quickly his gaze darts away; he doesn't seem too bothered by it, though there's something...odd about having Emmy commenting on it. He returns his attention to her as he joins her at the table, however, folding his hands on the smooth surface in front of him.]

A few things, really. I...received that card of yours a short while back, for one.

[Because it was totally just a card received a short while back, rather than anything...else, um.]

[W-Well of course it was just a card you received a short while back! Just how y-your card was just a card she received a-a while back and...!!]

Ah, yes I....well, I also got yours in the mail. Rather sweet of you to think of me, in that...way-

[Thankfully, for poor Emmy's sanity, the waitress pops up at that exact moment to take their order - tea for both of them, of course. It gives her a moment to peer at the menu, resisting the urge to hide behind it. For a moment, she's jealous of her dining partner; that mask is cheating!]

Did you...like the card, then?

[Why do you think he's so grateful for it most of the time when he speaks to you - ]

It was rather nice, yes, especially as I wasn't expecting anything of the sort.

[...he is not going to have enough lemons for this conversation. He can tell already.]

[Maybe she should have ordered something stronger than tea...]

Well it's not like I was!

[...so we're both sitting here

having sent the other Valentine's Day cards

and completely avoiding the fact that the cards that were sent

were Valentine's Day cards

...

great]

I just....thought it would be a nice gesture, that's all!

[Hmph!!!

....

....

................../blush]

[OH FOR THE LOVE OF - ]

Did I say it wasn't? It was appreciated, is that better?

[WELL FROM THE LOOK OF IT WHATEVER'S ON THE WALL NEXT TO HIM IS REALLY IRRITATING OR SOMETHING

...yeah this entire scene can pretty much be summed up with "hmph" rn

decidedly less blushing on Descole's side, as that isn't a thing he is about to do right now

but there is a lot of hmph]

[That waitress has the best timing in the world; here is the tea, so Emmy can busy herself with pouring her cup while fighting to calm down. Yes, excellent! Calm! Calm and collected!

....after a few moments of rather hmph-filled silence, Emmy decides to break it. They aren't children, after all.]

....so what else did you want to speak to me about?

[ENOUGH WITH THE CARDS

WE OBVIOUSLY CANNOT HANDLE THE ~~TRUTH~~ CARDS]

[Descole is at least reasonably content with maintaining that hmph-filled silence for a while; while he's fully aware that places like this have tea with citrus already in them, he's always preferred to prepare his tea to his liking, and as such he takes a moment after that question is out there to finish what he's doing with the sugar and the lemon and the...everything, he is not stressed about any of this, thank you very much.]

Part of it was wanting to ensure that you're still in one piece; your..."friend" still resurfaces on the network once in a while. I trust he hasn't targeted you further?

[Emmy sips her tea silently as she watches Descole preparing his; it will never not amuse her slightly. As bizarre as it is, the topic shift actually makes her feel a bit more relaxed. At least this particular subject doesn't make her blush so much.]

He hasn't, actually; I've been keeping an eye on things but he's yet to directly target me. Rather nice, really. Things have been...rather peaceful.

[....although....]

I caught a bit of your broadcast before I replied to your message...is everything alright? You...can talk to me; I'll listen.

[He tenses a bit at the question, though he seems to force it out of his system quickly enough; he toys a bit with the cup on the table, though he doesn't move to drink from it just yet.]

It's nothing that you need to worry about. Frustration, that's all; it'll pass eventually.

[Placing her cup lightly back on the saucer, Emmy takes a good look at Descole. He's obviously frustrated, and who could blame him? What she wouldn't give to see Big Ben right about now....

The Professor going home did make things worse for her. After all, how is she supposed to be his number 1 assistant if she's not there to assist? It's simply awful.

....hm.]

If you're that desperate for a distraction I could always teach you to cook, you know. You said you were terrible at it, didn't you?

Last I checked, my water-burning skills were still second to none, yes.

[He's quiet for a moment after that, however. Takes a sip of that tea.]

Perhaps I'd like that, however.

I have one condition, however.

[Smiiiiiirking~! Finally, she gets to smirk a little. Picking up her teaspoon, Emmy points it straight at Descole, as if it were a sword.]

You have to teach me to fence.

[ajdhghfbgfh Emmy what are you doing

other than amusing him greatly, that is]

...I think something like that could be arranged, yes.

Good! Then that neatly solves your puzzle, doesn't it?

[omg not only does she get to smirk, she gets to be smug! This encounter really has turned around!]

I think I'm getting pretty good, if I do say so myself~! Don't worry, we'll start your lessons with something basic. I assume you can handle toast?

I think I can manage that much, yes. Anything more complex may be giving me a bit too much credit, however.

[.......]

...I really do appreciate it, Emmy.

Yes, well....it's not like I'm all that busy, so. Besides, any excuse to show off a little~

[ugh will you....stop it, let her take another sip of her lemon-free tea, there]

Oh, and you had better not go easy on me when it comes to my lessons, or you'll be rather sorry rather quickly!

[text]

[text]

[text]

[text → action]

[action]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject