Meeting Lux

Lux
[Heyyyy, just because we're both lady PCs. >:|]

Jack
[J'ACCUSE CHAT OF POOR USE OF TROPES.]

Verna Gardner
[lol]

Verna Gardner
Verna works late. It's a habit born of her peculiar needs -- to be seen as industrious. To not be seen as a burden. She knows that they really wanted a doctor, and they got an undergrad, and so she tries, doesn't she? Friends have told her of the odd hours that the typical research lab can partake in. Stories of cots in the closets, in case one needs to work a few 20 hour days in a row.

Surely, when the lab is fully functional, this whole 'don't stay past sundown' thing will be forgotten?

It's an attitude that's going to get her in trouble one of these days. It probably already has.

But, oblivious, she thinks this place, this basement level of a pink warehouse in the middle of a bad part of town is quite charming. Once you get past the creepiness, there are spectral analysis machines, microscopes for examining the detailed inner lives of diamond matrices, not to mention the vapor deposition chamber (which will someday glow violet with plasma, vaporizing carbon in a vacuum).

In other words, the pink exterior, the blacked-out windows, the bad part of town? It doesn't quite get to her down here.

Down here where she is calibrating a microscope in black slacks and a pale lavender silk-ish sweater and those omnipresent sensible heels. Though she doesn't have much to her name, at least she seems to take good care of her clothes and her car (should anyone be so interested).

Lux
This is just the kind of joint young women don't go unless they're in a horror movie or something horrible's about to happen to them. So what if the dilapidated exterior was once a warm rose? That rose has withered and it's chipping, the new paint isn't slick enough yet. This is just the kind of joint in just the kind of neighborhood that you'd want to steer clear from unless you're going to try to conjure up ghosts or visions squeezed out've a needle this does look like a nice and solitary place to shoot-up though probably there haven't been any junkies loitering too too closely lately even on the balmier nights maybe they're chased away by the activity (such as it is) surrounding the place in the daylight hours a painter occasionally Ren  undergrad and Verna. What an intimidating amount of activity, truly.

At the back door: Lux, head bent as she does something with her phone, leaning against the door like by leaning against it just so while she does whatever she is doing with her phone (rueing, perhaps, texts gone astray) the door will give in to grace and open the fuck up. That does not happen; she sighs, puts her palm against the door, and tries the knob, and lo, it is unlocked, and lo, she is surprised, and lo, the audience screams

DON'T GO IN THERE YOU IDIOT

but she does. Because why wouldn't she? Where is her ride? And through the door to that service elevator, shadow-swathed interior, gloom and gloom and bars of gloom, Lux: she has not been in the basement before. Lux: does not appear to be unduly concerned by trespassing, trespassing through the vestibule, touch with her hand the staircase that leads up to the first floor, darkness, etcetera, and to suck in a breath so that she can halloo like so:

"Hello! Olly olly oxen free! You have a visitor!"

Which Verna just hears. Echo. Echo. And half the audience goes: Don't call the monsters OUT, you silly little fool, while the other half goes, welp, at least she's getting it over with quickly. Audiences are very critical of women who go into the kind of joint people don't go to except in horror movies, but audiences are also easily fooled.

Just watch. Everything will be fine.

Verna Gardner
The noise of another voice when she thought she was alone makes Verna jump, but the alarm level doesn't stay that way for long. Burglars don't usually shout 'olly olly oxen free' down the corridors to announce their presence.

Still, it is very strange. There is Verna, there is Carmen, and the doctors Andrassy and Jacobs -- none of whom sound like that.

She turns toward the door to the staircase, clears her throat, a little 'ahem', and then, "Who is it?"

Lux
Lux has sharp, sharp ears, so: there is a little pause while Verna's from-the-basement ahem and call-back Who is it? wends its way up, and up, and then:

"Lux!"

A little nearer? "Who is that? I'm afraid if I follow your voice I'll get lost forever! Willing to give it a try, but where are you?"



Verna Gardner
Lux? Her eyebrows gather and her lip twists into a pondering expression. It might just be time to kick somebody out.

Verna grabs her purse (with her phone for dialing the police, and her mace for if the worst happens) and heads for the staircase, up to intercept an interloper.

"I'm afraid this is a private establishment, miss. Unless you have an invitation, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Verna says, oh so trying-to-be-authoritative.

Lux
Up to intercept the interloper, who is:

There she is. Verna does not meet her mid-way up/down the stairs, nor find her ascent blocked up the sudden appearance of the trespasser at the bottom of the stairs. There she is: a young woman with dark hair, hand on the stair's safety rail, leaning recklessly (gravity's darling, she better stop flirting with it) downward, squinting toward the light. Verna's first impression will likely be of ridiculous shoes, if it's not oh she is going to fall and break her neck and then the project will be delayed and I wonder if it will be my fault.

Lux waits until Verna comes in sight, and then adjusts her balance  so she is not leaning so perilously. "That's very nice of you; I like to be asked."

"But please don't ask me to leave yet. You'll make this hour a waste of my life, a complete squander of an hour. Is, ah," slight pause; what was - "Stephen here?"

Verna Gardner
Verna's confused. Stephen? "Oh, you mean Doctor Andrassy. No, I think he's stepped out. Are you," she says, and an eyebrow raises. Her eyes flicker down to those shoes for a split second. "A friend of his?"

Oh, she hopes this woman is a friend of her employer and she doesn't actually have to call the police. But my word. Those shoes. This woman. She doesn't look the type to lurk in an underground laboratory, does she? Or to have 'friends' that include quantum physicists for that matter.

So, she tries to stand tall, square. If you're not a friend, this slight little thing of a young woman will completely wither you with glares and won't put up with your nonsense. That's what she's saying with those firm feet and focused eyes.

Lux
The shoes, indeed: silver-gilt heels where the heels are these baroque angels all curls and rills and ornament ornament ornament and somehow she balances (perfectly [impractically]). Her ankle dips but it isn't because she's lost that poise it's because she decided to lean against the stair's rail up there on the landing where she is still standing, or waiting, because she does not want to go down the stairs, or perhaps because it would only be awkward to do so given the nature of the conversation she is having with little Verna who is trying to instill authority (the worst thing to do around a creature like Lux) in her voice and who is all warning and readiness to glare any nonsense into compliance. The rest of Lux is also ornament: black pants and a black tunic belted with something that glints silver cinched at the waist [leaves, yes, Diana's leaves] and a gray coat thrown over that asymmetrical collar and all. Lux: naw. She doesn't look like she should be traipsing around decrepit warehouses or messing around with physicists or in this part of town at all. But where does she look like she belongs, eh?

"I am," she says, although she frowns, and glances over her shoulder like maybe he'll return right now, just having stepped out. Profile: delicate, sharp - luminous thing - eyebrows drawing together. Nope. Nothing there. Nothing lurking.

"Do you know if he's - ? Don't take this the wrong way," and here it is: a quick, dazzle-thing of a grin, impulsive and brushed away with a shrug, "But you are not half as fun to surprise as he is, and that's only one part because I don't know your name and one part because I didn't mean to surprise you."

Verna Gardner
"I'm Verna," she says, finally. Apparently having decided, due to this one's apparent ease at being and the familiarity she seems to have with her boss, that perhaps Lux is not a trespasser after all. In that case, she relaxes her posture a notch or two.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm sorry Doctor Andrassy isn't here for you to surprise," she says, the beginning of a smile to break the stoniness.

"I think I heard him up there earlier, but I could have been mistaken, you know. It's so easy to become simply absorbed down here. I lose track of the time even," she laughs.

Lux
"So you're working with him?" Lux says, and her tone isn't suspicious. Lux does not seem like a suspicious person. It's an invitational tone; like: how is that going? Heck: maybe it's rhetorical, the prologue, because next thing she says -- and she takes Verna's laughter (absorbed, lose track of time), and it animates her eyes; see? Responsive; spark of a response. "What's so absorbing? I'm going to hang around for a few and see if he returns, hoping still that your asking me to leave is deferred, and you sound -- oh, I don't know. I love losing track of time. It's a keen pleasure, huh?"

Verna Gardner
"I suppose it wouldn't be right of me to boot out a friend of the doctor's," she says. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't some random person sneaking into the laboratory."

She shuffles her hands behind her back, perhaps a bit self-conscious now. "That would be bad."

"I am his assistant," she adds, so yes, she's working with him. "And, well," she gestures to the rooms around them, full of mostly-unpacked but largely non-functional equipment. "This place is just full of amazing stuff, and I get to set it all up."

Get to. Like it's a pleasure.

Lux
There is a brief frown again: see it? This sharp little line between her eyebrows: considering random persons sneaking into the 'laboratory'? That would be bad.

But it smooths away in the next moment; Lux, still peering down - how much equipment can she see? And would she know what any of it was? Get to, Verna says, like it is a pleasure, and Lux -

- oh, Lux enjoys enjoyment. "So you love every step of the journey? Not just the - discovery? The tools, too. I'm not a scientist," she says, "Nor do I ever hope to be. But I am interested. I like the question of the thing, you know? What's -- " a pause. She doesn't quite laugh, but there's a rill of laughter in her voice, contained. It isn't self-mocking but it is self-directed: "Well what's your favourite thing about the whole shebang, Verna?"

Verna Gardner
It's strange, how this very out-of-place, out-of-the-ordinary woman just met her, and then wants to know everything about Verna's passions.

But then, it is a passion, no? And it's hard not to speak of one's passions. They tend to bubble up at inopportune moments with inopportune people sometimes, and you can't just shut it off. So, no matter the oddness of this whole situation, right from the baroque silver heels to the Diana leaves wrapping around the decorated (decorative?) woman. Just remember, Lux, you asked the question. You might not get Verna to shut up now.

"The universe. That's my favorite thing. Peeling back the surface of the universe and seeing what makes it tick. It's perfection -- just so wonderfully perfect, you know?" she says, and my word, could you not just see the light shining out of her face right now?

"Just, how everything is tied together, working together. When you look deep underneath the surface of what your eyes can see, there's just a whole hidden world down there. Weirdness, like fluids that have no friction, so they crawl up and envelop their containers. Particles that are the same particle, but separated by hundreds of miles. The way plasma coils in on itself and twists into knots. Lasers made out of matter instead of light.

"All those things you think aren't possible, but they are if you just know the rules the universe follows."

Lux
Lux listens and she is quite still as she does. The only movement is the subtle (very) rise and fall of her chest in time with the (slow) cadence of her breathing, a masquerade. Her head is canted to the side: just so. And she listens, as absorbed in Verna's answer as it deserves. Lux is decorative, you see - a heartbreak of a creature to look upon. Even her godamned expressions are lovely: compelling (that doesn't have to be good), and of course, of course, she is also a devot e of passion.

Here is a secret: this is how to try to be an artist of conversation -- seek out the heart. No matter where you are. No matter who you are with. This might be the end. This might be the only moment. This might be your last conversation. Make it an interesting one. Don't pussyfoot around. Lux: oh, she listens and maybe she listens just like you'd wanna be listened to.

So when Verna lights up, opens up, Lux: there's the suggestion of a smile at her mouth; and she listens, her clear eyes intent but not too intense.

"That - " she says " - that was a brilliant answer."

Lux
ooc: er. make that IS a brilliant answer. tenses, stupid things.

Verna Gardner
Ahh, the beauty says she's brilliant, and Verna cants her head a little in a mix of pride and shyness, like she's not sure how to take the compliment. "Oh. Thank you."

"I, ah, suppose I should get back to it. Or, oh, what is the time?" she asks, digging into her purse to pull out her phone. It's late. Too late. Lux might see her cringe at the thing when she realizes. Rene would kill her if he found out, probably.

"I need to close up shop I think. I really did lose track of the time tonight, from the looks of it."

Lux
"Thank you for giving me a real answer."

Lux grins: this kissing curl of a thing, and she pushes away from the stair's rail, crossing one ankle over the next so the toe of one ridiculous shoe is hanging over the stair's edge, and why wouldn't she walk on silver-gilt angels, eh? Their wings are keeping her from the ground: also, ridiculous faux-clouds. They really are unfortunate shoes for trespassing in:

"I think you and Stephen are going to get on like fizz and pop." This, as Verna cringes at the time, her expression shifting, because - why, she's responsive, Lux. "He's wonderful, occasionally."

And then Lux uncrosses her ankles, and says: "Well I'd say I didn't mean to keep you, but I did mean to, and I'm not sorry. But I'll leave you to it. If you see me still sighing outside like a disconsolate shadow when you're done, don't be too alarmed. I'll probably be about to give up hope and catch a bus."

Pause; because a conversation requires pauses. And, "It was nice to meet you."