He's sensible. Most aren't. It makes a difference. And I beg to differ. Nearly all Robert and I ever spoke of was so-called high level stuff.
But I take your point. And I'll . . . try. I suppose. Perhaps. At least swordfighting seems useful; he's a good man to bribe along on an expedition, I know that.
[Newt sighs. Well, it's a step forward on her part, at least. He'll take it. This is gonna be a "baby steps" kind of thing.
Which apparently means he's committed to the challenge of socializing Rosalind. That'll make for an interesting project.]
OK so think of social interactions as business transactions then if it helps you. Whether that's wanting to learn "useful" stuff like swordfighting or just for pure entertainment. People don't have to be geniuses to make interesting conversation.
The thought of you swordfighting is pretty awesome though. If you actually take lessons from him PLEASE let me watch.
Shotgunning is when you drink a whole can of beer in like 5 seconds. There's a trick to it.
[God, the thing of it is: it does actually help her to think of it that way. It's not a very nice way to think about things, but on the other hand, if it gets the job done . . .]
Don't take this the wrong way, for I'm not arguing with you. I'll give it as valiant an effort as I can stand. But for someone whose intellect matches mine, you have remarkably more patience with the average person than I ever would have expected.
In some ways it's nice to be an average person. The thing about being better than everyone else is that it puts you on an island. You've got your ego to keep you company and that's nice and all but what's better is if you can walk among the masses and still get the respect and praise you deserve.
[Newt has yet to balance those two things, but that's the ideal in his mind: Extremely impressive and one-of-a-kind in such a way that he still fits in. Those things might be mutually exclusive, but he's accomplished the impossible before.]
The trick is you punch a hole in a certain spot on the can and then you can suck it down really fast. You wanna learn? We'll go to that bar downtown tomorrow. Solve two problems at once lol.
If we're doing it at the bar, I'm not promising I'll attempt the skill myself. But I'll watch, and practice it privately.
[It's too guarded, she knows, for she frowns at the notebook after she writes that. Then all at once she crosses it out, a swift line drawn through the words as she amends:]
If you teach me to make a fool of myself, I'll ensure you regret it. And I will pick out the beer; I don't trust the spirit who hands them out. He means well, I suppose, but that matters little if I end up inadvertently attempting to chug apple juice.
[Another pause.]
What is it like? When you act average. Or . . . fit in, I suppose. Is it enjoyable?
[That's such an imprecise question, but she doesn't quite know how to say what she's thinking. Are you happier like that? Is it easier? She'll never regret her intelligence, not even for an instant— but it would be a lie to say she'd never looked upon others with a certain shade of envy. Happiness seemed to come easily to the (white, rich) people of Columbia, so stupidly oblivious they couldn't conceive of despair.]
OK all jokes aside: You're gonna feel like you're making a fool of yourself. Chugging beer is always messy and like low class or whatever. There's no getting around that.
The thing about normies is that they're too dumb to appreciate just how far above them we are. They can't even comprehend our greatest accomplishments.
You'll impress a hell of a lot more people if you're willing to be impressive in ways they can understand.
So I'm telling you now, you're gonna doubt me, but I promise you're gonna look really cool. You just have to trust me.
[He's talking about more than just shotgunning a beer now. But she's blown this up into a conversation about fitting in with the riff-raff, and if he's being honest, he'd love to see her let down her hair a bit. She doesn't seem like a person who has a lot of fun, and that's just a shame.]
People are surprised when I say this but I prefer to fit in.
Kind of. More like I wish everyone else was as cool and interesting as me so I didn't stick out so much in a weird way.
My problem is I'm too in the middle you know? Way above average but I don't fit the mold for most of the scientific community either. No one normal can keep up with me but my peers don't take me seriously.
Don't get me wrong I have no interest in conforming and I like being unique. But it sucks to be swimming upstream in every part of life all the time.
Acting "average" is a nice break from that. Like if I'm at a concert then I'm with a bunch of people who like the same stuff as me. Everyone's focused on that so me having more degrees than everyone else in the room combined isn't as annoying for me.
It makes sense. Admittedly, I understand the theory more than the practice, but . . . that does make sense, especially in a crowd. Especially if it's a communal activity where you don't need to speak.
[Her tone is more thoughtful than it reads. Part of the reason she likes Newt is that he truly does understand her; sentences like they can't even comprehend our greatest accomplishments is a mere fact, and it's more of a relief than she realizes to have someone else say it. But ah . . . as to his point, well. She's never attended the kinds of concerts he's described, and now she never will— but that does sound appealing. If you don't have to hear everyone's idiotic opinions, if you can focus on something extraordinary, if you can settle your hackles and blend in . . .
Well. No use in lamenting things she cannot change. A different line of thought, then:]
If I didn't trust you, Newt, I wouldn't agree to any of this. Keep that in mind, even if I do doubt.
[Newt, and the trick with always being formal is that it really does count when she's not. Anyway! Moving on, though! Can't linger!]
Did you ever try and conform? To gain respect from your scientific peers, I mean. Or were you always set on being rebellious.
[His eyebrows tick up. Oh so we're calling each other by our first names now? NICKNAMES even??? is what he types out before changing his mind. Surely she hasn't just been calling him Dr. Geiszler this whole time, but... then again, maybe she has. He hadn't paid too much attention to it until that "Newt" slapped him in the face.
In a rare moment of self restraint, he decides not to call attention to it. He's still getting a read on when it's productive to push Rosalind versus pretending not to notice when she lets her guard down.]
Alright deal. As long as YOU remember that I'm not going to let you look stupid. Doubt away as long as you recognize I've got your best interest in mind.
[And he does, as much as he teases her about how stuffy she can be.]
See that's the problem. I didn't set out to conform but I didn't set out to be rebellious either. I was just being myself and my peers took it as rebelling.
Which is pretty unfair if you ask me. I had two doctorates and was teaching university before I could legally drink in America. I'm a genius who accomplished more by the time I was 20 than most people do in a lifetime but shame on me for listening to metal and watching anime.
Everyone's just jealous that I found the time to outpace them AND have hobbies. Anymore I just lean into it. If I act rebellious then at least it feels like I'm choosing to ostracize myself.
[He's being dramatic and leaving out the part where his behavior and controversial opinions earn him a lot more disapproval than anything else, but whatever. He's dead and none of this matters, but he died being right so he'll always have a bug up his ass about it.]
Jealousy is a factor, certainly. Fear might be another— certainly people have a difficult time with dealing with anything that's different. And in turn, they have a hard time taking seriously that which they cannot immediately understand. You can be right all you wish, but they'll still dismiss you.
But— and don't take this the wrong way, for I'm not insulting you— I doubt very much that simply watching foreign cartoons was the only thing that made you stand out. You like to be noticed. You wouldn't act or look the way you do if you didn't.
It cannot have made life easier. Surely you must have considered trying to fit at least once or twice. For the sake of your genius being recognized, if nothing else.
[Or maybe not! She's never met anyone like Newt, you see. And while she can wholeheartedly understand his issue, she has never once considered coming at it from the other side, as it were. Better to play into societal expectations and not give anyone a damned inch to critique, and of course Robert had felt the same, albeit with far less effort needed on his part. But to intentionally delve into that image . . .
Well. It is what it is. She won't scold him for it, but it does fascinate her.
Oh sure it's not "simply" that but it's still stupid that it matters at all. I bet the people that don't take me seriously for being myself are the same ones that wouldn't take you seriously if you weren't so stuck up lol.
They're not the same struggle but you know what I mean. The scientific community is ruled by exactly one type of straight old white guy.
I really haven't ever tried for conformity though. I know that's a shocking concept to you but think about it: I was in college by the time I turned 14. I never stood a chance. People were more impressed by me back then because you know child prodigy and all but that's not the same as fitting in. I didn't have friends and all of my peers thought of me as either a novelty or a threat.
So by the time I was older I'd realized that fitting in is just a waste of energy. A whole lot of effort with no real payoff.
I get why you play the game like you do but think of how much more impressive you would be if you stopped boxing yourself in. Plenty of people would give you a hard time over it but who cares? You'd be unstoppable.
[Or she could take a page out of his book and waste her energy being obnoxious just out of spite. Either/or.]
[The scientific community is ruled by exactly one type of straight old white guy, and that earns Newt another laugh. Two in one night, which is a frankly remarkable feat— though this isn't the soft amusement this time, but rather a sharper hah, half-spoken and half-laughed.]
I'd be a laughingstock.
Not here. People here are pleasingly tolerant, though I suppose death rather takes the edge off a need for formality. [And yet she and Javert both still act so stiffly in public, but ah, sometimes it's nice to lean on what you know. And it's rather pleasing sometimes to catch his eye during a ruckus.] But what worked in your world would not work in mine. Not for me— and I suspect not for you.
But perhaps the opposite holds true for your world and myself.
[But there's no winning that argument, for it isn't as if either of them are wrong. Or, well— Rosalind knows she's right, obviously, because she's always right, but she's prepared to allow for the fact that he might also, sometimes, be right too. She's very gracious like that. Charming, too.
And she has a better question to ask him.]
What was university like for you? You were 14, but what else?
[He hears the laugh, and he almost asks what triggered it. His kneejerk reaction is to assume she's laughing at him in some way, but then, that's unlikely. If she thought he was worth mocking, she would tell him.
It's not lost on him that she's unintentionally proven her point, too. Being regarded as a joke or naive—as anything lesser, really—it bothers him more than he likes to think about.]
Nope hold on.
Chilling out wouldn't fly in your world but you're admitting that it might've in mine.
Beacon is a lot closer to my world than yours I bet.
[He's tried a lot of different persuasion tactics to get her to loosen up. "Experimental challenge" is next on his list.]
Beacon is about the furthest you could get from Columbia, frankly.
But yes, I imagine it is. What about it? I already told you I'd shotgun a beer; is that not enough rebellion for you?
[For she can see the shape of where this is going. And honestly? She doesn't mind it, not really. Formality was a necessity in Columbia, and she will never regret the steps she took to ensure her own success, but it's not hard to see how little the people of Beacon care. An amalgam of all kinds of expectations and social rules blending together to form a ghostly culture of their own— one far more focused on survival than perception.
It's oddly refreshing.]
Or do you intend to suggest we take an expedition to find a tattoo parlor next?
Lol the shotgunning is a good start I'll grant you that.
But that's such a one and done thing. I'm advocating for real longterm change.
That's assuming you actually want to let your hair down though. I'm pressuring you because it sounds like a lot of your energy is needlessly spent on keeping yourself so wound up.
[He's not trying to change her, is the thing. He likes that she's a stuffy nerd, at least to some degree. It reminds him of Hermann—or, it did, and then Hermann showed up and he got the two of them in a room together and played Spot the Difference with all their little nuances. One of which being that Rosalind is far more flexible than Hermann in a lot of ways. Why that is, Newt has yet to unravel, but he suspects it has something to do with the societal pressure thing. Rosalind manipulates her outward image because she cares intensely about her reputation. Hermann... is just a turbo nerd.]
But hey if you wanna get matching tattoos I am so down lol. I bet we could teach the Postmaster General to wield a tattoo gun. He's good with his hands.
His intentions are good, I will admit, but he's also possessed of the unfortunately combination of incredible enthusiasm and questionable taste. I'd rather you go at me with a needle and ink, if it came to that. Which it shan't.
And I wouldn't be opposed, I suppose. It isn't so much energy as I suspect you imagine it to be, for we're very used to different mannerisms and expectations . . . but I would like to learn. If nothing else, knowledge acquired is almost never a waste of time.
Did you have anything in mind? Or is this more a general thought?
I've seen the general state of posture in this town, and I'll be keeping mine, thank you very much. Corsets do more work than just offer an appealing figure. Someday we'll reverse this little game of dress-up and I'll show you.
[Is she joking? Probably.]
But jeans . . . I could try those. You're about my height and size, or at least close enough; I'll steal one of yours tomorrow. It's been a long, long time since I tried wearing pants. That will be fun. Even a t-shirt, though I'll leave selecting that up to you.
[Oh. So now she's borrowing his clothes? That escalated quickly.]
OK deal.
I'll wear a corset for a day if you let me dress you up for a day then. And you have to go out in public. No sulking in the lab.
Then again you're a lot less difficult to convince on all this stuff than I thought you'd be. Is that because of your quest to get more people to like you?
And before we discuss my reasons, I reserve the right to spend as much time in the lab as I please. I'll interact with others, but I'm not going to walk around all day greeting people just so they can gawk.
Keep in mind that I'm making that promise before I know just how uncomfortable it'll be. I reserve the right to bail if it's too annoying.
Other than that I don't really care. I'll wear anything.
Well fine I suppose that's fair. We're definitely doing something social that day though. Like we'll get dinner or something. Hang out at the bar. Something in public.
[Does this count as asking her out??? He'd tread more carefully if he was truly angling for a date, but hey, this is a good precursor.]
[It sort of counts. Half-counts. Counts in the sense that she wouldn't be so displeased if he did count it as a date, but there's little pressure to impress. She wouldn't bother going out with him in any sense if there wasn't a level of respect there.]
A bar suits. If nothing else, it would be nice to be a bit tipsy if people decide to make a thing of it— though I suppose that might sharpen my tongue. We'll see. Pick a day and we'll do it. Though you're paying.
[It's not really a joke in the sense that it's not, like, objectively funny, but she means it teasingly, is the point. She's trying.]
Though that's not putting me out much given this place has no currency (Which is insane, btw. How has society not crumbled around us?) soooo how about instead I promise to fight off the masses that will surely be clamoring to mock you.
No one's gonna make a thing of it. You'll be fine.
If I can wear a full body spandex body suit in public then you can manage jeans and a T-shirt.
[God, she absolutely had a reply for the currency thing, and she will assuredly come back to it in a few minutes, but, like, priorities. And honestly, she debates this for a second, but:]
Do I dare ask what kind of material spandex is? I'm going to ask why you wore such a thing regardless, I simply want to know what amount of detail I ought to truly ask after.
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He's sensible. Most aren't. It makes a difference. And I beg to differ. Nearly all Robert and I ever spoke of was so-called high level stuff.
But I take your point. And I'll . . . try. I suppose. Perhaps. At least swordfighting seems useful; he's a good man to bribe along on an expedition, I know that.
What do you mean by shotgunning?
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Which apparently means he's committed to the challenge of socializing Rosalind. That'll make for an interesting project.]
OK so think of social interactions as business transactions then if it helps you. Whether that's wanting to learn "useful" stuff like swordfighting or just for pure entertainment. People don't have to be geniuses to make interesting conversation.
The thought of you swordfighting is pretty awesome though. If you actually take lessons from him PLEASE let me watch.
Shotgunning is when you drink a whole can of beer in like 5 seconds. There's a trick to it.
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Don't take this the wrong way, for I'm not arguing with you. I'll give it as valiant an effort as I can stand. But for someone whose intellect matches mine, you have remarkably more patience with the average person than I ever would have expected.
What's the trick?
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In some ways it's nice to be an average person. The thing about being better than everyone else is that it puts you on an island. You've got your ego to keep you company and that's nice and all but what's better is if you can walk among the masses and still get the respect and praise you deserve.
[Newt has yet to balance those two things, but that's the ideal in his mind: Extremely impressive and one-of-a-kind in such a way that he still fits in. Those things might be mutually exclusive, but he's accomplished the impossible before.]
The trick is you punch a hole in a certain spot on the can and then you can suck it down really fast. You wanna learn? We'll go to that bar downtown tomorrow. Solve two problems at once lol.
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If we're doing it at the bar, I'm not promising I'll attempt the skill myself. But I'll watch, and practice it privately.
[It's too guarded, she knows, for she frowns at the notebook after she writes that. Then all at once she crosses it out, a swift line drawn through the words as she amends:]
If you teach me to make a fool of myself, I'll ensure you regret it. And I will pick out the beer; I don't trust the spirit who hands them out. He means well, I suppose, but that matters little if I end up inadvertently attempting to chug apple juice.
[Another pause.]
What is it like? When you act average. Or . . . fit in, I suppose. Is it enjoyable?
[That's such an imprecise question, but she doesn't quite know how to say what she's thinking. Are you happier like that? Is it easier? She'll never regret her intelligence, not even for an instant— but it would be a lie to say she'd never looked upon others with a certain shade of envy. Happiness seemed to come easily to the (white, rich) people of Columbia, so stupidly oblivious they couldn't conceive of despair.]
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The thing about normies is that they're too dumb to appreciate just how far above them we are. They can't even comprehend our greatest accomplishments.
You'll impress a hell of a lot more people if you're willing to be impressive in ways they can understand.
So I'm telling you now, you're gonna doubt me, but I promise you're gonna look really cool. You just have to trust me.
[He's talking about more than just shotgunning a beer now. But she's blown this up into a conversation about fitting in with the riff-raff, and if he's being honest, he'd love to see her let down her hair a bit. She doesn't seem like a person who has a lot of fun, and that's just a shame.]
People are surprised when I say this but I prefer to fit in.
Kind of. More like I wish everyone else was as cool and interesting as me so I didn't stick out so much in a weird way.
My problem is I'm too in the middle you know? Way above average but I don't fit the mold for most of the scientific community either. No one normal can keep up with me but my peers don't take me seriously.
Don't get me wrong I have no interest in conforming and I like being unique. But it sucks to be swimming upstream in every part of life all the time.
Acting "average" is a nice break from that. Like if I'm at a concert then I'm with a bunch of people who like the same stuff as me. Everyone's focused on that so me having more degrees than everyone else in the room combined isn't as annoying for me.
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[Her tone is more thoughtful than it reads. Part of the reason she likes Newt is that he truly does understand her; sentences like they can't even comprehend our greatest accomplishments is a mere fact, and it's more of a relief than she realizes to have someone else say it. But ah . . . as to his point, well. She's never attended the kinds of concerts he's described, and now she never will— but that does sound appealing. If you don't have to hear everyone's idiotic opinions, if you can focus on something extraordinary, if you can settle your hackles and blend in . . .
Well. No use in lamenting things she cannot change. A different line of thought, then:]
If I didn't trust you, Newt, I wouldn't agree to any of this. Keep that in mind, even if I do doubt.
[Newt, and the trick with always being formal is that it really does count when she's not. Anyway! Moving on, though! Can't linger!]
Did you ever try and conform? To gain respect from your scientific peers, I mean. Or were you always set on being rebellious.
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In a rare moment of self restraint, he decides not to call attention to it. He's still getting a read on when it's productive to push Rosalind versus pretending not to notice when she lets her guard down.]
Alright deal. As long as YOU remember that I'm not going to let you look stupid. Doubt away as long as you recognize I've got your best interest in mind.
[And he does, as much as he teases her about how stuffy she can be.]
See that's the problem. I didn't set out to conform but I didn't set out to be rebellious either. I was just being myself and my peers took it as rebelling.
Which is pretty unfair if you ask me. I had two doctorates and was teaching university before I could legally drink in America. I'm a genius who accomplished more by the time I was 20 than most people do in a lifetime but shame on me for listening to metal and watching anime.
Everyone's just jealous that I found the time to outpace them AND have hobbies. Anymore I just lean into it. If I act rebellious then at least it feels like I'm choosing to ostracize myself.
[He's being dramatic and leaving out the part where his behavior and controversial opinions earn him a lot more disapproval than anything else, but whatever. He's dead and none of this matters, but he died being right so he'll always have a bug up his ass about it.]
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But— and don't take this the wrong way, for I'm not insulting you— I doubt very much that simply watching foreign cartoons was the only thing that made you stand out. You like to be noticed. You wouldn't act or look the way you do if you didn't.
It cannot have made life easier. Surely you must have considered trying to fit at least once or twice. For the sake of your genius being recognized, if nothing else.
[Or maybe not! She's never met anyone like Newt, you see. And while she can wholeheartedly understand his issue, she has never once considered coming at it from the other side, as it were. Better to play into societal expectations and not give anyone a damned inch to critique, and of course Robert had felt the same, albeit with far less effort needed on his part. But to intentionally delve into that image . . .
Well. It is what it is. She won't scold him for it, but it does fascinate her.
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They're not the same struggle but you know what I mean. The scientific community is ruled by exactly one type of straight old white guy.
I really haven't ever tried for conformity though. I know that's a shocking concept to you but think about it: I was in college by the time I turned 14. I never stood a chance. People were more impressed by me back then because you know child prodigy and all but that's not the same as fitting in. I didn't have friends and all of my peers thought of me as either a novelty or a threat.
So by the time I was older I'd realized that fitting in is just a waste of energy. A whole lot of effort with no real payoff.
I get why you play the game like you do but think of how much more impressive you would be if you stopped boxing yourself in. Plenty of people would give you a hard time over it but who cares? You'd be unstoppable.
[Or she could take a page out of his book and waste her energy being obnoxious just out of spite. Either/or.]
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I'd be a laughingstock.
Not here. People here are pleasingly tolerant, though I suppose death rather takes the edge off a need for formality. [And yet she and Javert both still act so stiffly in public, but ah, sometimes it's nice to lean on what you know. And it's rather pleasing sometimes to catch his eye during a ruckus.] But what worked in your world would not work in mine. Not for me— and I suspect not for you.
But perhaps the opposite holds true for your world and myself.
[But there's no winning that argument, for it isn't as if either of them are wrong. Or, well— Rosalind knows she's right, obviously, because she's always right, but she's prepared to allow for the fact that he might also, sometimes, be right too. She's very gracious like that. Charming, too.
And she has a better question to ask him.]
What was university like for you? You were 14, but what else?
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It's not lost on him that she's unintentionally proven her point, too. Being regarded as a joke or naive—as anything lesser, really—it bothers him more than he likes to think about.]
Nope hold on.
Chilling out wouldn't fly in your world but you're admitting that it might've in mine.
Beacon is a lot closer to my world than yours I bet.
[He's tried a lot of different persuasion tactics to get her to loosen up. "Experimental challenge" is next on his list.]
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But yes, I imagine it is. What about it? I already told you I'd shotgun a beer; is that not enough rebellion for you?
[For she can see the shape of where this is going. And honestly? She doesn't mind it, not really. Formality was a necessity in Columbia, and she will never regret the steps she took to ensure her own success, but it's not hard to see how little the people of Beacon care. An amalgam of all kinds of expectations and social rules blending together to form a ghostly culture of their own— one far more focused on survival than perception.
It's oddly refreshing.]
Or do you intend to suggest we take an expedition to find a tattoo parlor next?
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But that's such a one and done thing. I'm advocating for real longterm change.
That's assuming you actually want to let your hair down though. I'm pressuring you because it sounds like a lot of your energy is needlessly spent on keeping yourself so wound up.
[He's not trying to change her, is the thing. He likes that she's a stuffy nerd, at least to some degree. It reminds him of Hermann—or, it did, and then Hermann showed up and he got the two of them in a room together and played Spot the Difference with all their little nuances. One of which being that Rosalind is far more flexible than Hermann in a lot of ways. Why that is, Newt has yet to unravel, but he suspects it has something to do with the societal pressure thing. Rosalind manipulates her outward image because she cares intensely about her reputation. Hermann... is just a turbo nerd.]
But hey if you wanna get matching tattoos I am so down lol. I bet we could teach the Postmaster General to wield a tattoo gun. He's good with his hands.
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And I wouldn't be opposed, I suppose. It isn't so much energy as I suspect you imagine it to be, for we're very used to different mannerisms and expectations . . . but I would like to learn. If nothing else, knowledge acquired is almost never a waste of time.
Did you have anything in mind? Or is this more a general thought?
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Hmmmmmm.
I'd love to see you in like jeans and a T-shirt. Or anything more comfortable and practical than your usual getups. No one wears corsets anymore Ros.
Really it's more of a general thought though. And hey you're already making progress! Calling me Newt a minute ago was a step forward.
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[Is she joking? Probably.]
But jeans . . . I could try those. You're about my height and size, or at least close enough; I'll steal one of yours tomorrow. It's been a long, long time since I tried wearing pants. That will be fun. Even a t-shirt, though I'll leave selecting that up to you.
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OK deal.
I'll wear a corset for a day if you let me dress you up for a day then. And you have to go out in public. No sulking in the lab.
Then again you're a lot less difficult to convince on all this stuff than I thought you'd be. Is that because of your quest to get more people to like you?
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And before we discuss my reasons, I reserve the right to spend as much time in the lab as I please. I'll interact with others, but I'm not going to walk around all day greeting people just so they can gawk.
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Other than that I don't really care. I'll wear anything.
Well fine I suppose that's fair. We're definitely doing something social that day though. Like we'll get dinner or something. Hang out at the bar. Something in public.
[Does this count as asking her out??? He'd tread more carefully if he was truly angling for a date, but hey, this is a good precursor.]
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A bar suits. If nothing else, it would be nice to be a bit tipsy if people decide to make a thing of it— though I suppose that might sharpen my tongue. We'll see. Pick a day and we'll do it. Though you're paying.
[It's not really a joke in the sense that it's not, like, objectively funny, but she means it teasingly, is the point. She's trying.]
What's the strangest thing you've worn in public?
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Though that's not putting me out much given this place has no currency (Which is insane, btw. How has society not crumbled around us?) soooo how about instead I promise to fight off the masses that will surely be clamoring to mock you.
No one's gonna make a thing of it. You'll be fine.
If I can wear a full body spandex body suit in public then you can manage jeans and a T-shirt.
[Green Man is multidimensional.]
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Do I dare ask what kind of material spandex is? I'm going to ask why you wore such a thing regardless, I simply want to know what amount of detail I ought to truly ask after.
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As for "why" that's a story I'll tell you at dinner. It's an intricate one with a lot of twists and turns.
[Or just a weird thing he was trying at a musical festival once, but he'll drag it out, make it exciting.]
A boat was involved and a flock of angry geese make an appearance. I'll leave time for questions don't worry.
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[But ah, speaking of silly stunts and breaking social norms:]
I meant my question from earlier, though.
[She circles a fair few lines up: What was university like for you? You were 14, but what else?]
Your experience must have been vastly different than my own, sexism et all aside.
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1/2
actuallly 2/3
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