uncertainrelation | IC Inbox

And how precisely would I be cheating?

[Okay, well, this business of Rosalind's returned powers is decidedly strange, but by the same token, one does not look a gift horse in the mouth. One takes it outside and experiments on it until one understands everything about it. Science!

He can see, though, how fidgety she is out here, and given the locale and what he's heard about her history with it, it's not as though he can't perfectly understand why. So he instinctively moves behind her a step, bringing his hands to rest lightly on her upper arms, and rubs them soothingly up and down to try to help pacify her skittishness.]

Cheating implies a breach of the rules, and as far as I recall, there aren't any to this game, save the obvious.

All right: don't take advantage and win simply because you've the superior power right now.

[She leans back, pressing lightly against him, soothed despite herself.

It isn't as if her powers suddenly nullify his own, she tells herself. If anything happens, he'll gather her up and they'll be spirited away, quick as anything.]

The range seems to be about fifteen feet or so; you can't zip around beyond that, or there'll be no point in playing.

I would never take advantage of you, my dear. Perish the thought.

[And since she's right there, and this is perfectly natural, he presses a kiss against the side of her head, into her hair, as he gives her a squeeze.]

So you'll zip and I'll zap, and may the best R. Lutece win?

[Oh, he's-- oh, and a little smile appears, just like that. Rosalind lingers in his arms for a long few seconds before simply--

It isn't effortless. Rosalind has to orient herself and think of where she wants to go, but the entire process only takes a moment. There, just like that, and suddenly she's a few yards away, smiling over at him.]

Precisely so. Come on, then.

[And oh, there she goes: heading west, her form flashing and barely visible, racing away as quickly as she can.]

[Strange, that. He can tell from watching her that what she's doing isn't precisely the same as his own experience somehow — as though in a way she's traveling whereas he simply moves from point to point in space — but the sight of her smile is compelling enough that he has no reason to linger on those technicalities just yet, and so he files them away in favor of zipping off after her, keeping to their agreed-upon five-meter rule by leapfrogging to all the same points in space that he's been seeing her appearing and disappearing.]

Are you quite enjoying yourself, then?

[He calls after her, as though they are on a stormy sea in a rowboat instead of dashing west through the forests and clearings of the park.]

A fair bit more now that I know you're not going to cheat.

[Which is mostly said to annoy him with the imprecision of the word. Rosalind keeps moving, and now she's getting the hang of it: she appears and disappears at a far faster rate, visible for only half a second before vanishing and appearing elsewhere.

It isn't effortless. She's panting even now, her heart pounding hard as her body tries to cope with the sudden exertion she's putting it through. She's not going to be able to last, and that's as fascinating as it is irritating.

So. Best to make these last few minutes count, right? He's following her with eerie precision, appearing and disappearing in all the same spots she has. And as they've already established she can keep up and outpace him long distances . . .

Hm. How fast is she, exactly, compared to him?

It happens in an instant, too quick to comprehend: she vanishes from one place, reappears in another, and then forces herself back precisely the way she came, standing only an inch or so away from where she'd first been. He ought to be here in an instant, only a few inches away-- unless, of course, his reflexes are quicker, and he knows to dodge her.]

[And naturally, as Rosalind is without a doubt the cleverer of the pair, her trap unfolds precisely the way she thinks it's going to: Robert is a few leaps behind her still, and focused enough on following her trail that he's not really paying huge amounts of conscious attention to where they're going; he's simply in a rhythm of there, there, there, which brings him automatically along the chained path of her last known theres, which in this case happens to put him just inches away from her reach right about at the same time that she reappears herself.]

— What!

[HOLD UP WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE]

Hello.

[She looks far too smug for someone who managed to play a simple trick.]

Now, do you think that was because my reflexes are inherently faster than yours, or because you simply weren't paying attention?

[Well, he can't very well just let her stand there and not make a grab for her, now can he? Let's see if he can get his arms around her waist and scoop her up into a hold.]

You're asking me to concede to carelessness.

You're going to have to be honest if we're to study this properly.

[Not that she's making any efforts to pull away right now. Rosalind's back arches, her fingers smoothing idly over his suit coat. She'll linger just long enough to catch her breath, she decides, and relaxes more fully against him.]

Now: were you paying attention?

Only to your trajectory. I see the error of my ways; naturally I should have been paying attention to you.

[DOCTOR LUTECE I SEE THAT DOUBLE ENTENDRE YOU JUST DID THERE]

Shall I remedy that error now?

Naturally.

[She catches her bottom lip for a moment, making it quite obvious how precisely she'd like Robert to be paying her mind. It's been all of an hour since he kissed her; that's far too long.]

You do realize, of course, that this qualifies as a valid "catch".

[Which is actually the worst prelude to a kiss in the known universe, but it's what she gets as he leans down and indulges her.]

I was validly within five meters when I caught you.

[It's one of the least sexy things he's ever said to her, but a kiss is a kiss, and Rosalind is still smiling as he pulls away. Which really says a lot about the power of love.]

Yes, but you oughtn't take any pride in the victory. I let you catch me.

[She lingers like that for a few seconds longer, pressing her lips together, before taking a deliberate step backwards.]

Now. I truly do want to test our reflexes. Are you ready?

[Is she? She's still a little out of breath, but curiosity wins over personal indulgence.]

Not in the slightest. Come back here.

[And he moves to make a gentle grab for her again, because really, he wasn't done. And yes, maybe it's a touch foolish to be carrying on like this when they're out in the open in the wilds, but of course, that's just all the more reason to have her close at hand, since he's the one who can get them back to the city in an instant if need be.

Besides, he has some very important nuzzling to do.]

Of course you let me catch you. You're not one to be caught any other way.

Robert--

[They're supposed to be studying. They're supposed to be making discoveries. And yet Rosalind steps forward with a laugh, pressing up far more firmly against him.]

You would have let me outrun you forever, is that it? Only I'm not much inclined to make an effort that way.

Oh, no. But I would have pursued you forever, certainly.

[Okay, as lines go, that's a little better — and he half-draws, half-sways her around in a slow circle with him.]

I'm glad you're back where you belong, though.

Mmm.

[She can't relax fully, not out here, not even in his arms. But Rosalind moves with him, at least, swaying in time even as she glances around again and again.]

. . . you're certain you're still feeling all right? You're not out of breath, nothing seems missing?

Not in the slightest.

[But naturally, holding her this close, he can tell that the same isn't true for the both of them.]

But it seems I'm the only one. You've grown tired from all the zipping, have you?

Yes.

[And a fair bit anxious, thanks to it. But Robert will teleport them in an instant if anything looms on the horizon, and so with a force of effort she turns her attention back to him.]

Not to the point of exhaustion. But it is tiring. I have to focus more, too. It's a concentrated effort, instead of something simple.

Yes...the only bit I'm really concentrating on is ending up where you are. Staying within our five meters, that is. It'd be just as easy to simply move to where you are — which of course, is simplest, and also what I always desire.

[He is the smoothest.]

Curious. Perhaps you're right, and we had better keep testing. It does seem that your abilities have been twisted somehow, to make them deviate from what they ought to be.

Yes.

[And yet she doesn't move an inch. Perhaps more tellingly: though she's pleased by his line, her expression doesn't change in the slightest.]

Stay a moment, though. I don't . . .

[A beat. She huffs softly, irritated with herself, and adds impatiently:]

The space still makes me uneasy.

And rightly so, I would imagine. You had a traumatic experience here; it's only to be expected that you'd associate anxieties with it.

[He knows how she hates that, though. Knows precisely what must be running through her head, too — that Madam Lutece oughtn't be afraid, Madam Lutece is supposed to be fearless in the pursuit of science, women grow fearful and cling to their men and she oughtn't be carrying on that way at all.

So he gives her a little squeeze again, skimming his hands over her back.]

I'll stay as long as you need me to. You know I will.

[And indeed, a little frown graces her lips, a noise sounding in her throat as she bites back a protest. I'm not anxious, I'm not afraid, I'm not traumatized, I'm perfectly all right . . . Funny, how automatic it is to keep up her defenses even after admitting she's anxious.

She slides her hands down, catching his shirt between her fingers. It is clinging, though you'd have to look close to see.]

It didn't even happen here.

No, but it did happen in the rugged wilderness, much like this. It doesn't look...

[He hums a little bit, absently moving one of his hands to cover over hers where she's clinging to him, just for that extra spot of attentiveness to her mood.]

...right. Lived-in. Columbia had nothing like this, and even home wasn't this...wild.

IC Inbox | rubycity_rp

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