[Ardyn is a patient man. Even if she's a few minutes late, he's not the sort to fidget or be too terribly concerned about it. Instead, he sits patiently on one of the aforementioned benches until she arrives, fedora placed on his head at a strategic angle to block out any direct sunlight in his eyes.
He'll likely see her approach from his peripheral, regardless. It's then when he'll choose to speak up, with his usual sort of wry smile.]
I have no doubt that you're looking forward to this, aren't you? [He wonders how eager she is to discard his hat and scarves in the name of something more "fashionable".]
Of course. [why wouldn't she enjoy the moment of actually being asked for help, someone conceding to her wisdom in such things?] But my goals lie at us achieving a compromise, something you feel comfortable in that yet meets the standards for such an event.
[and it's not like it's something terribly difficult. men have it easier than women when it comes to looks. but it's probably unspoken that he's not keeping the hat for a slightly dressier event.]
[Is it unspoken? Sorry, Grell, but it's definitely something she's going to have to make a point of mentioning, because lord knows that Ardyn will always take any opportunity possible to wear his hat when he feels it suits him. (Which is almost always.)
For now, though, he stands from his seat, straightening to his full height -- his manner is almost lackadaisical, and his words match.]
Completely. I'm in your hands now, Grell. Treat me well.
[one decisive nod, and then she's walking off, expecting him to follow. with permission, she knows exactly where she wants to go if he's making the (wise, in her opinion) choice to trust in her. it will require a tiny bit of walking, but frankly after sitting for so long, it's welcome.]
So tell me, did your nephew sign you up into actually participating in this pageant, or is this more showing up to be supportive?
[He does follow, though Ardyn makes the effort of walking more next to her than behind her, for the sake of entertaining conversation. In that alone, he doesn't mind the short stroll.]
No, this time wasn't a Valentine's repeat. I made the decision to participate. He- [He pauses, considering his words.] I don't know why Retrospec chose him to host the event. But I found it difficult to accept that idea of him going through with it, while I just stood by and watched. I'd be the most thoughtless sort of uncle if that were the case.
[Implying that concern had a little something to do with it, as well. But it was mostly support.]
[he's lucky to have him for an uncle, she thinks.]
In case anything happens, you'll be right in the thick of it. But I do hope the worst that occurs is someone gets out of sorts over not winning. A few tears, a few angry accusations of things being rigged, nothing that can't be handled neatly with kind words or letting them cry it out.
[Grell shrugs, waiting for the light to turn so they can cross the street.]
But good luck to him - a pageant's a bit bigger to coordinate. One wonders how this is actually going to turn out.
[thank god no one's including a swimsuit category.]
[He gives her a lopsided grin at that.] It wouldn't be a proper pageant without someone's pride being shattered into a million tiny pieces. I expect tears, heated exchanges, and dramatic exits. Otherwise, I'll be very disappointed.
[Eventually the light does turn, allowing them to cross. Ardyn continues this line of thought.]
To the winner though... a free chance to remember. Verbiage that may sound familiar to you, to us, what with all of our talk about memories.
[at that, her smile dims a bit. the words hadn't struck her as right then and they don't now.]
It confirms they are no dreams, if we take the words as they are. Memories, remembrances - those were the easy words for them, and now they'll be the only. But why say it's free? Extending it out like this...
[it feels like an odd sort of bait.]
Like it's some kind of gift given for deciding to take the risk and play along with a mysterious plan.
That, or it's not unlike them having a key, and our memories are locked away to be handed out as they see fit. That's far too manipulative for my tastes, not to mention the execution of it is lacking. The very least they could do is provide them to us in some kind of order.
[So that they could all make sense of their memories, if they had some kind of narrative structure. Not this jumping back and forth with no context nonsense.]
That would be far too generous to expect of a company that spent its resources on making its application annoyingly persistent and occasionally intrusive. Common sense and courtesy is beneath them.
[dispensing memories at their whim? the thought isn't reassuring, but it would suit this atmosphere of being chosen. chosen for the program's test run, chosen to access something when it suited, chosen to be changed. it's creepy, but she makes herself think instead about facing it down. if they would choose, let them choose correctly.]
I won't be shocked if we have to work for it the entire time through. That's probably easier on their end, isn't it? To not have to bother with having things make sense.
[A hand reaches up to adjust his hat, an idle gesture that he often does without even thinking about it.]
That or they're taking a sadistic sort of pleasure in keeping us on our toes. Not a particularly comforting thought either way. I should file a complaint to Janet. Or Jim. Since we've no idea of who else to complain to.
Could always write a letter and slip it under the door, directed to Customer Service or the like. At least then you can say you made an attempt, and not one that could get bounced back through the internet.
[they'd be the most likely to read something and contact someone back, even if it was a form email they'd send out.]
Poor Janet might be in a completely unrelated department and no more responsible for this than my houseplants are. Which I can say for certain are not plotting schemes involving memory behind my back.
[And of course Ardyn takes the opportunity to joke.]
How do you know? They say it's the quiet types to watch out for, and I'm going to assume your houseplants are very mute. I wouldn't be so quick to trust your local flora, Grell.
[But then he shrugs.]
If Janet doesn't want complaints that relate more to customer service, then she should make an attempt to not be the only transparent name available to us. Yes, we have Jim now, but he doesn't strike me as a reliable sort of man.
Not reliable? Why, he's proven himself to be dedicated to his purposes and creatively talented. [if you can call video edits like that talent.] Yet Jim's signature says he's in R&D. So it's reasonable to think maybe he doesn't touch the distribution part of anything. And that still doesn't explain where a request for your nephew to host a pageant of all things came from. Not that it won't be fun to hear about everything that's going to happen, of course.
[it's half to him that she addresses her words and half to herself at this point.]
It's not the sort of competition one would traditionally expect for such mystery.
You and I have a differing opinion of, ah, creatively talented, then. [He's teasing, but c'mon, now. The fruit video was hilarious, but surely it was unintentionally so?]
But you're right, it isn't. Why does Retrospec care who's the most charming, or the the best dressed? Who can give the most eloquent replies to stock questions, and who can show off their talents on stage?
Maybe they're just trying to make us all more fashionable. How thoughtful.
One hardly needs Retrospec for that. They just need me.
[she has enough confidence in her own abilities to help those that need her. and of course, those who'd allow her. she may find certain articles of clothing disastrous, but...
anyway. he's already granted her license to assist.]
And speaking of. I promise it's not too much further. It was simply easier to meet you back there.
[At that, he looks at her, arching a brow. What confidence; and yet, he can hardly say that he doubts the validity of such a claim.
They'll see, at any rate. Anything is probably better than what he tends to wear anyway.]
I don't mind the walk. [While true enough, he also doesn't mind the company!] It adds to the slow build of anticipation and my growing curiosity, wondering at what you're going to dress me in.
If you tell me what sort of impression you want to make, that will contribute. I do take suggestions, after all.
[she has her own opinions, but she had mentioned compromise.]
Though for color I was thinking something classic. Which means not venturing out of your usual palette, but better to go for something that you know flatters you.
What sort of an impression? A positive one, I hope. [He chuckles, shrugging with broad shoulders. Is it all that surprising that his consideration of this hasn't really gone past the "surely Grell will find clothes that everyone else thinks suits me" stage? Maybe not.]
Simple, I suppose, nothing terribly over the top. [Don't laugh, don't let the hypocrisy kill you. He's quick to make an addendum:] Because apparently, that's a complaint often filed against me.
Where color is concerned, you've seen my usual preference. Darker tones, black in particular, tends to suit me better. But then again, what do I know? Everyone is critic these days.
You know yourself better than anyone else. And despite agreeing with the critics on certain aspects, I do think that I've not seen you go wrong with color.
[one of these days she's going to pluck the hat right off his head if only to see if he's expected such an attack. but as she makes the proclamation, she knows they're arriving at their destination, and takes a sharp turn into a small storefront, unassuming if painted green.
inside, it reveals itself to be full of clothing and the like, evenly divided between women and men's, though the styles seem to follow no discernible pattern - the price one pays when looking through vintage clothing is that they have to actually look for what they want. Grell for her part knows it well - but since they want something nice on such short notice, she's putting her faith in it.]
Right. Now the goal is to find something that both fits and looks nice - and while I said that compromise is a goal, if you consider seriously for one second that neon anything will be acceptable, I assure you, it's not unless you want to pattern an entire outfit after it, in which case I won't help coordinate a single thing.
[god, she hasn't had to think about suits or anything close to them in years. at least it's a guarantee that everything here is in decent condition.]
[Grell, you wouldn't dare steal his fedora off of his head, would you? (The inhumanity of it all.) Still, Ardyn has quietly resigned himself to the fact that the hat may have to come off at some point; such are the trials and tribulations of shopping for clothes, and trying on new outfits.
He eyes the expanse of clothing when they enter the shop, and any lesser man might feel intimidated. Ardyn instead only wonders to himself, idly, what they might find.]
Come now, surely you can be lenient enough to allow for a splash of color. Even a small amount.
[It's often what he delegated his scarves for during the colder months of the year.]
Color may find its way into this look yet, but you are not looking like you dragged a piece of the eighties with you on the stage. Maybe next time.
[that said, she leaves his side to go look through the jackets. it will click to her in a few minutes that she doesn't know what will fit him, but for the moment, she's looking for style. once that part's nailed down, it'll be just about things fitting. it would be less than ideal for him to be unable to lift up his arms comfortably.]
Even I'd not go that far without a proper sort of reason to. [Though one cannot be blamed for thinking otherwise of his judgement, when it comes to how to dress himself...
Well, he'll not stop her from going to have a look. It's funny, however, that Ardyn takes only a moment before he trails behind, eying various articles of clothing on hangers, but commenting on none of them.
[the moment strikes, and then she pauses, turning to him with her hand resting on a gray jacket.]
...If I pick out something that decidedly won't fit you, feel free to reject it out of hand.
[definitely not that one, then, she doubts it would be long enough. but looking at things is giving her a more concrete idea. it is also making her occasionally chuckle when other things appear. one can never account for taste.]
Also, which of your scarves would you consider most in the spirit of spring?
[There's definitely no accounting for taste. But there are a few things that even Ardyn will admit to not feeling particularly inclined to wear. Probably. (Because good heavens, what is that.)
And Grell, are you certain you want to open up a discussion about scarves with Ardyn........]
That depends. Would you cringe at the mention of floral patterns?
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He'll likely see her approach from his peripheral, regardless. It's then when he'll choose to speak up, with his usual sort of wry smile.]
I have no doubt that you're looking forward to this, aren't you? [He wonders how eager she is to discard his hat and scarves in the name of something more "fashionable".]
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[and it's not like it's something terribly difficult. men have it easier than women when it comes to looks. but it's probably unspoken that he's not keeping the hat for a slightly dressier event.]
Trust me?
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For now, though, he stands from his seat, straightening to his full height -- his manner is almost lackadaisical, and his words match.]
Completely. I'm in your hands now, Grell. Treat me well.
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So tell me, did your nephew sign you up into actually participating in this pageant, or is this more showing up to be supportive?
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No, this time wasn't a Valentine's repeat. I made the decision to participate. He- [He pauses, considering his words.] I don't know why Retrospec chose him to host the event. But I found it difficult to accept that idea of him going through with it, while I just stood by and watched. I'd be the most thoughtless sort of uncle if that were the case.
[Implying that concern had a little something to do with it, as well. But it was mostly support.]
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In case anything happens, you'll be right in the thick of it. But I do hope the worst that occurs is someone gets out of sorts over not winning. A few tears, a few angry accusations of things being rigged, nothing that can't be handled neatly with kind words or letting them cry it out.
[Grell shrugs, waiting for the light to turn so they can cross the street.]
But good luck to him - a pageant's a bit bigger to coordinate. One wonders how this is actually going to turn out.
[thank god no one's including a swimsuit category.]
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[Eventually the light does turn, allowing them to cross. Ardyn continues this line of thought.]
To the winner though... a free chance to remember. Verbiage that may sound familiar to you, to us, what with all of our talk about memories.
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It confirms they are no dreams, if we take the words as they are. Memories, remembrances - those were the easy words for them, and now they'll be the only. But why say it's free? Extending it out like this...
[it feels like an odd sort of bait.]
Like it's some kind of gift given for deciding to take the risk and play along with a mysterious plan.
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[So that they could all make sense of their memories, if they had some kind of narrative structure. Not this jumping back and forth with no context nonsense.]
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[dispensing memories at their whim? the thought isn't reassuring, but it would suit this atmosphere of being chosen. chosen for the program's test run, chosen to access something when it suited, chosen to be changed. it's creepy, but she makes herself think instead about facing it down. if they would choose, let them choose correctly.]
I won't be shocked if we have to work for it the entire time through. That's probably easier on their end, isn't it? To not have to bother with having things make sense.
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[A hand reaches up to adjust his hat, an idle gesture that he often does without even thinking about it.]
That or they're taking a sadistic sort of pleasure in keeping us on our toes. Not a particularly comforting thought either way. I should file a complaint to Janet. Or Jim. Since we've no idea of who else to complain to.
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[they'd be the most likely to read something and contact someone back, even if it was a form email they'd send out.]
Poor Janet might be in a completely unrelated department and no more responsible for this than my houseplants are. Which I can say for certain are not plotting schemes involving memory behind my back.
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How do you know? They say it's the quiet types to watch out for, and I'm going to assume your houseplants are very mute. I wouldn't be so quick to trust your local flora, Grell.
[But then he shrugs.]
If Janet doesn't want complaints that relate more to customer service, then she should make an attempt to not be the only transparent name available to us. Yes, we have Jim now, but he doesn't strike me as a reliable sort of man.
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[it's half to him that she addresses her words and half to herself at this point.]
It's not the sort of competition one would traditionally expect for such mystery.
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But you're right, it isn't. Why does Retrospec care who's the most charming, or the the best dressed? Who can give the most eloquent replies to stock questions, and who can show off their talents on stage?
Maybe they're just trying to make us all more fashionable. How thoughtful.
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[she has enough confidence in her own abilities to help those that need her. and of course, those who'd allow her. she may find certain articles of clothing disastrous, but...
anyway. he's already granted her license to assist.]
And speaking of. I promise it's not too much further. It was simply easier to meet you back there.
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They'll see, at any rate.
Anything is probably better than what he tends to wear anyway.]I don't mind the walk. [While true enough, he also doesn't mind the company!] It adds to the slow build of anticipation and my growing curiosity, wondering at what you're going to dress me in.
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[she has her own opinions, but she had mentioned compromise.]
Though for color I was thinking something classic. Which means not venturing out of your usual palette, but better to go for something that you know flatters you.
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Simple, I suppose, nothing terribly over the top. [Don't laugh, don't let the hypocrisy kill you. He's quick to make an addendum:] Because apparently, that's a complaint often filed against me.
Where color is concerned, you've seen my usual preference. Darker tones, black in particular, tends to suit me better. But then again, what do I know? Everyone is critic these days.
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[one of these days she's going to pluck the hat right off his head if only to see if he's expected such an attack. but as she makes the proclamation, she knows they're arriving at their destination, and takes a sharp turn into a small storefront, unassuming if painted green.
inside, it reveals itself to be full of clothing and the like, evenly divided between women and men's, though the styles seem to follow no discernible pattern - the price one pays when looking through vintage clothing is that they have to actually look for what they want. Grell for her part knows it well - but since they want something nice on such short notice, she's putting her faith in it.]
Right. Now the goal is to find something that both fits and looks nice - and while I said that compromise is a goal, if you consider seriously for one second that neon anything will be acceptable, I assure you, it's not unless you want to pattern an entire outfit after it, in which case I won't help coordinate a single thing.
[god, she hasn't had to think about suits or anything close to them in years. at least it's a guarantee that everything here is in decent condition.]
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He eyes the expanse of clothing when they enter the shop, and any lesser man might feel intimidated. Ardyn instead only wonders to himself, idly, what they might find.]
Come now, surely you can be lenient enough to allow for a splash of color. Even a small amount.
[It's often what he delegated his scarves for during the colder months of the year.]
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[that said, she leaves his side to go look through the jackets. it will click to her in a few minutes that she doesn't know what will fit him, but for the moment, she's looking for style. once that part's nailed down, it'll be just about things fitting. it would be less than ideal for him to be unable to lift up his arms comfortably.]
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Well, he'll not stop her from going to have a look. It's funny, however, that Ardyn takes only a moment before he trails behind, eying various articles of clothing on hangers, but commenting on none of them.
He won't break her concentration, not yet!]
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...If I pick out something that decidedly won't fit you, feel free to reject it out of hand.
[definitely not that one, then, she doubts it would be long enough. but looking at things is giving her a more concrete idea. it is also making her occasionally chuckle when other things appear. one can never account for taste.]
Also, which of your scarves would you consider most in the spirit of spring?
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And Grell, are you certain you want to open up a discussion about scarves with Ardyn........]
That depends. Would you cringe at the mention of floral patterns?
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