Duncan Boyard (choosewisely) wrote in tiberiusswann, @ 2010-04-08 17:52:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | duncan, emma |
Thursday | May 1st, 2008
Who:Duncan and Emma
When: Thursday Afternoon
Where: outdoors ... somewhere.
What: A meeting!
The cold air could be ignored in favor of the sunshine, and she had decided that since there were was no Supernatural History this week, she was going to take advantage of it. Dressed warmly enough in jeans and a pretty white top beneath an aquamarine cable-knit duster, she had ditched the gloves she usually wore in favor of what she was currently doing--drawing.
Or had been doing, anyway. The warmth of the sun had taken effect and she was basically basking now, her sketchpad sitting beside her hip. Her hands were braced to the side and slightly behind her, one of them curled around a pencil that was no longer in use. About a foot away sat her bag, and that ever-present coffee mug.
Eyes closed, she was practically purring and ready to just curl up right there and take a nap, it felt so good. Meanwhile she glittered brilliantly--though not blindingly--in the sunlight. Whereas normally she might have hidden this... well, she was at a damned school for the supernatural.
---
Duncan had been so distracted lately he'd forgotten to do a million things before the wedding. So now, still in his everyday clothes of jeans and a tee shirt, he was scrambling back and forth over campus. He needed a card. Got the card. Forgot the money holder. Got a money holder. Thank God for school stores.
Now he was scrambling back for his apartment when he almost tripped over a gorgeous blond stretched out in... a very warm outfit. Bloody hell, it was late April, and she had a sweater! "Let me guess," he said, seeing that she was not-quite-asleep just yet. He blocked her sun momentarily as he approached. "Ice demon, or snow-sprite?"
---
She whimpered as an automatic chill stole over her, rather than the wonderful sunshine she'd been appreciating, and she made a face before opening one amber eye to look at her sun-stealer. The hand not holding her pencil lifted to push several long skeins of blonde hair from her face then, and despite her now cold state she couldn't help but smile at the question.
"Wrong. Both counts... try again?" Her accent was glaringly obvious even with those scant five words, although hard to place given the mixed origins. Both eyes open now, she was amused and cocked her head to the side, trying to place him. She hadn't seen him around, but that didn't give her any clue--she hadn't seen a lot of people.
---
He pointed at her with wide eyes. "Africa. That makes sense." His grin was infectious, even if it wasn't reaching his eyes today. He was tall and gangly, with not enough muscle and not enough of a tan, but he was warm just to look at. Short horns protruded from auburn tufts of bedhead looking hair.
"I... " his eyebrow arched, and his smile became a little wary. "I'm Professor Boyard. Are you a new professor here?"
---
Her eyes widened, and then Emma grinned and pointed at him in mock "accusation." "You knew! You're the first person I've met to know that." Imminently pleased even though she had nothing to do with it, she straightened up and folded her hands in her lap.
The wariness stole a bit of her amusement though, and she cleared her throat while shaking her head. "No, just a student. I'm Emma Wilder. Pleasure to meet you, Professor." He got another warm, shy grin. "I would shake your hand, but it'd be an unpleasant way to figure out what I am."
---
Duncan's head reared back a little, and he shifted his weight onto his other hip, hands going to his hips. "Oh, now I am curious."
---
"Ehm." She cleared her throat again, and cast a glance from one side to the other before she mimed a yawn, very pointedly. And if that didn't work... "I've something of a reputation for knocking people out." And didn't look too pleased with the fact; more mortified, in fact.
---
"Well.." Duncan's mind raced back and forth on the topic of 'should I,' 'shouldn't I,' and then decided to screw it -- Emma looked to be at least thirty-something; she had to be older than that.
"You're a knockout, so that makes sense. But, ehm, let me see. My powers of deduction along with the yawning say 'sleep-something.'"
He grinned. "Or other."
---
And there came the blush; ducking her head a bit, she planted her pencil on top of her sketchbook and then tucked her hair behind her ears. Emma didn't know how to handle flirtation, despite her age--even innocent flirtation.
"Mmm... Sleep. Very good--sleep demon, to be more precise." Once she'd mastered her blush she looked up again.
---
Oh that was too cute. He smirked and slid his hands into his jeans' pockets. "I've met just one before, but it was a large scary man." He canted his head. "And so the rather interesting shimmer effect... dust, as it were?"
---
"We're a rare lot, admittedly." He was laughing at her, and she fought another blush by looking down at her arm. Raising it, she turned it a bit in the light to create a disco-ball type effect. "Mmhm... a rather subtle 'warning' that no one I've met so far understands. You would think that aposematic coloration would be a little less... glitzy... than this."
---
"Apose-what?" he said, inclining his head toward her like he'd misheard her instead of misunderstood her.
---
"Aposematic coloration." It took her about two seconds to realize he didn't know what that meant, and she continued. "A coloration pattern that signals a threat to others. It's mostly used by prey species... like a monarch butterfly. But others use it, too."
Gesturing to her arm, she sighed. "Most people see this and think I ran into an art tray."
---
Duncan laughed genuinely. "I suppose you'd look strange if you were colored up like a poison dart frog."
---
She blinked, and then laughed as well; relaxing a bit. "Oh, definitely. I'm not truly complaining--I would far prefer this than being bright blue and green... or having spines, or some such."
Looking at him assessingly, she canted her head to the side again and then leaned to grab her coffee mug, both hands curled around it as she took a sip. "I'm going to come right out and say I'm at a loss for your abilities. Although I do believe you're a demon as well." Her lips were quirked as she said it--the horns were kind of a giveaway. Although he could be a satyr. You've met one of those, as well... but no--wrong legs. She had to mentally pinch herself to get off that track.
---
"Actually no, my mother was Blitzen."
---
She blinked at him owlishly for a second, mug still held close. So very desperately wanting to call "bullshit" on that but not very sure if she should or not. He was a professor, for heaven's sake. "... Hardly." There, that could work. She smiled again too, with a brow quirked in that "You've got to be kidding me" fashion.
---
He chuckled, disappointed he hadn't actually gotten a laugh. "No.. yes Half-demon, actually. Fire demon." He grinned wider. "So are you very new? You don't look familiar."
---
Now that she knew it was a joke, she laughed--softly, but with a sharp beginning; as though she'd held it in. Which she had.
"Yes... I've been here.. hm. A couple of weeks now. Had... oh, an adventurous time for the first few days, but things seem to be settling down now." She'd had to reword her thoughts during that second pause, as she'd been about to ramble.
---
She could have seen the gears shift into place in Duncan's head. His eyes suddenly popped and again his finger flew. "YOU'RE the girl who knocked out Summer Gladwin!"
---
Oh hell. She froze like a deer in the headlights when he suddenly hit on that fact, eyes wide just because of his abrupt realization and somewhat loud announcement of it. Then mortification hit, and she stared down at her coffee mug.
"I didn't mean to." Voice soft, she tinkered with the lid with a fingernail. "I can't control the dust yet, and it was the afternoon and she grabbed my arm and startled me..." Which all sounded lame to her ears.
Get a thicker skin, woman... you're forever going to be knocking people out without meaning to, and you've got to get used to it at some point. They'll either forgive you or they won't.
---
Duncan's face fell as he realized what his gentle teasing had done. "Oh, no no, I hadn't meant to chastise you, darlin'..." a bit of his Scottish brogue slipped through. He fell into a crouch beside her, careful not to touch her, but coming close enough to be undoubtedly comforting.
"No one's upset with you. In fact, I can't think of a better student to do that to. Adora tells me Summer is like apple pie wrapped in ice cream wrapped in heavier cream."
---
Darlin'. Ah but that was sweet, but she didn't immediately look up. "I know... I'm sorry. I know you were teasing. I just..." She huffed softly, and finally looked over--his closeness still a surprise even though she'd heard him move and his voice was closer.
Meeting his gaze, she shrugged helplessly and offered a weak smile. "I would rather have done it to someone mean, almost. Do you know what I mean?" At least then they'd have yelled at her, and she could have come to her own defense.
---
He thought about this, his expression soft, and nodded. "But you didn't mean to, in either case, and it's past now. Lots of student here are having the same issue. What if your power was coating people with silly string? Do you realize the potential for awkwardness there? You just give people naps!"
---
She gave him a bizarre look for half a second--what in the world was silly stri--oh. Then she ended up laughing, covering her own mouth to smother the sudden amusement a little. Her eyes were still dancing from it, though. "Very true..."
Lowering her hand, she was still smiling. "Very true... and I like my abilities. I do. I just helped someone out last week."
---
Duncan's grin was fierce and triumphant; he had wanted to make her laugh, and now that it had happened, he was pleased. He rested his elbows on his knees, content to stay crouched for longer. He didn't look uncomfortable in the slightest. "You did? How so?"
---
"He was suffering insomnia; inborn claustrophobia plus far from home plus stress from school and so forth... poor thing looked like he was at his wit's end. Haven't heard from him since, so I think I managed to help a little."
---
"So there you are, that's wonderful!" he said, loosely gesturing at her in a 'you see!' manner. "Now, you could probably do a number of fantastic things with your ability.. you could... assist daycare teachers in calming down rowdy students, or help animal photographers create possibly the cutest photos ever of puppies, provided someone supplied baskets and shoes and other things to place the sleepy critters in...." His hands shaped a "thing" in the air, then mimed placing something in it.
---
If he was trying to make her laugh again, he won easily; as he proceeded to theorize all of those possible careers she wound up giggling, especially as he mimed it all. "When we stopped by the villages the women would recruit me for that. I was a popular babysitter. The puppies and kittens... that's just too cute an idea for words."
---
Duncan grinned, and now his eyes joined in, hazel orbs alight. "That's amazing. So there, you see."
---
"Put a lion to sleep once. Papa was horrified with that one, though." Mischief glinted in her expression briefly, but then she tamped it down and gave him a grateful look. "Thank you, Professor."
---
"Call me Duncan," he said, with a wink. He stood up and scratched at the back of his head.
---
"Alright..." He'd have to remind her at some point. It was an ingrained "authority figure" reflex, really.
"You were going somewhere, weren't you?" It was the way of people walking along campus--they were usually traveling somewhere. The sun had sunk a bit in the sky and thus wasn't nearly as warm, and she tugged her duster a little bit tighter around her frame before reaching to close her sketchbook; rather rapidly when she remembered what she'd been drawing. The pencil was tucked into the spiral binding, and then the lot of it slid into her bag before she pulled on her gloves.
---
"Aye, to shower and get ready for.. a wedding.." The little pause and the way he sighed indicated he was not just physically preparing himself for the occasion.
---
"... Hard to be so happy, with what happened this weekend." She didn't know Simon, she didn't know that Duncan knew Simon--and she especially didn't know that he was his guardian. But it was still a truth. "Is it someone here that's getting.. Oh... no, it is. I think I remember reading the announcement on the journals."
---
Duncan nodded, and divulged none of the information Emma didn't know, though his eyes grew sad. "I should go. You have a pleasant evening, mmm?"
---
"And you..." She trailed off quietly as she watched him, not sure why she felt like suddenly apologizing. Or hugging him. So instead she pulled her bag closer, sliding the strap over her head.