Comparing Notes. Literal Notes, Even. [CLOSED]

[professorwolf]

Who: Randolph/Randall Lyall and Fenn Forester/Fai D Flourite
Where: A local mall
When: Just after sunset

As being out in the sun is uncomfortable, after a few rounds of text messages with Fenn Forester, as the young man introduced himself, a time for just after sunset is set for their little get-together to compare notes, and a comfortably public place of the nearest mall to the school. Lyall spends the interim poking at a few other network posts, half-heartedly grading some papers and pointedly not writing that damn number down again, and pacing around his darkened home, where all the windows are shut and blinds drawn.

He's a little early for the meeting, more out of a kind of frustrated anxiety, but he has a hat on and long sleeves despite the generally comfortable temperature out. His hands in his pockets and his laptop slung in its case over his shoulder, spectacles on and the hat shading his eyes, he does indeed look very much a high school teacher. One with a halfway decent fashion sense, but still. A high school teacher.

The hat and the laptop are what he's told Fenn to look for. That, and standing under the tree just outside the mall, anyway.

Comments

[comparative_insanity]

"We~ell, I didn't say magical-" And then he cuts himself short and groans. "Oh my god, I just remembered riding a dragon and fighting monsters and-" And being swallowed by a creature smaller than a rabbit. Noooo, not saying that either. "I think I'm the one who needs psychiatry." He shakes his head, watching the small thing climbing the insides of the bag. "Our best bet is probably just to share what we know with everyone else and try to make sense of this together."

[professorwolf]

"Ah, you are more trusting than I am, I think," Lyall answers with a little smile. "I'm not sure how much I trust that network. It just seems so-- so-- convenient. We know nothing of where it comes from or why exists, why we of all people were connected to it, or who or what might be watching it." He doesn't mention not necessarily trusting the other people pulled into this, half thinking it self-evident and half not wanting to offend the odd young man in front of him. While he thinks Fay seems well-meaning enough, he simply doesn't know many of the others, and some of those he does know he has no interest in seeing involved in anything dangerous, anyway.

"I do think we need more information," he adds hasily. "I'm just not sure whether that network is necessarily the place to find it...."

[comparative_insanity]

"Well, look, it's more like this..." He sighs, spreading his hands, because truth to be told he really isn't the most trusting nature. He's suspicious of just about everything they have encountered, but... "We've got something that can plant that number in our heads, that can connect our doodles or class notes or whatever to some kind of network, that's probably messing with your sense of smell and putting memories in my head..."

He makes a small, helpless noise as he shrugs. "With or without the network, seems to me like whoever's behind it are gonna be able to watch us just fine. I mean, how do we know we're not right now? That sounds paranoid as shit, but think about it. The network's just about the only useful we've got out of this so far. We might as well use it."

The silly thing about Fay is that he genuinely believes he's dumb as dirt, but he's kind of wrong about that.

[professorwolf]

The look Lyall gives him is both sour and amused at the same time. "All right, all right, you have a point," he admits. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it, and if it's all the same to you, I would prefer to contact you using an old-fashioned telephone in the future? I won't actively avoid sharing over the network, but call me an old man if you want to, I am not very fond of change."

He's not that old. Mid-thirties, and all. But than, Fay looks like he's practically underage, and Lyall is used to teenagers who do think he's old. Mostly, though, he's just poking fun at himself.

[comparative_insanity]

He laughs and shakes his head, giving Lyall's shoulder a light bump with his hand. "I ain't saying there's nothing wrong with keeping it old-school when we can, if that feels better to you. Just making sure we ain't up and looking a gift horse in the mouth, you know?" He shrugs easily with a small, teasing grin. "And I know there ain't nobody older than your teacher when you're still going to school, but that was kind of a while ago for me, so don't sweat it."

[professorwolf]

"It doesn't look like it was that long ago," Lyall said with a little shake of his head and a smile. "But I'll take your word for it. I guess we've done some of testing, and-- and I really think I might go crazy if I don't find somewhere with fewer smells...."

Preferably somewhere not outside. Or like his house, with all the windows firmly shut. God, this was going to take forever to get used to. Maybe he should just go to bed and hope it was gone in the morning. "We'll keep in touch, though?"

[comparative_insanity]

"Oh, excuse you. I'm twenty-three, so that would make it seven years since I dropped out." He grins, though, and doesn't seem very upset. Apparently some people at the club still give his boss grief because they think he's got an under-age dancer, so what the heck, he can deal.

"And yes, I think that would be a good idea. You should go and rest that nose." Preferably close to someone whose coat doesn't smell rather a lot like weed. "And I'll contact you if something else comes up, okay?"

[professorwolf]

Probably a good idea. Though at the moment he's too overwhelmed to recognize the scent in question, but too much longer and he might. "I'll do the same."

Lyall smiles a bit and offers a hand to Fay. "At least this has been educational." And he's gotten out of his usual social circle for a little. That's beneficial, too.