Robert Callaghan // ʏ๏кคเ (
pushtheboundaries) wrote2019-12-10 05:36 am
Entry tags:
IC INBOX; MoM

"You've reached Robert Callaghan, Headmaster to the Heropa Organization for imPort Education. Please leave a message with your name, your phone number, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. As a reminder, my office hours are..."

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What's the deal with the wardrobe change? Not that I'm complaining, exactly. You look hot.
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...What was I like before?
[his voice is quiet, but...firm. there's the sense that he can trust her, at least, to some level...]
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And technically I think we're talking after, since it seems like you slid backwards a little.
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What do you know about it?
[that intensity is back, this time combined with a need-desperation. if he's so interested in second chances - does that mean he found a new life? but responsibility- hoe does that figure in? hell, he burned the expo hall down to rid himself of the sort that would hold him back...]
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[ But other than that, she ignores the question. It seems that telling him is cheating somehow, when weirdo timey-wimey bullshit is afoot. She picks up his mask and turns it around for a thorough inspection. ]
You weren't kidding about being into Kabuki.
[ She stops suddenly as something occurs to her, and looks stricken. ]
Please don't tell me you're calling yourself Kabukiman and making, like, obscure theatre puns.
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he doesn't look amused.]
I didn't call myself anything. What do you know?
[firmer. just shy of angrier. don't change the subject.]
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Are you trying to intimidate me? That's adorable!
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and even if there was, well - it's the responsibility of the mother to be smart, isn't it?
the various shelves of the room rattle softly, not unlike the hiss of a snake's tail - a warning. Callaghan lowers his hand - and the mask - to the table, setting down the one chopsticks as well as he just stares at Harley with a darkening expression.
he's not sure why he was building the things here, but he'll sure as hell use them if he feels the want.]
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Since you don't remember, here's a little reminder. Whatever tricks you've got up those sleeves, whatever cruel little ideas are running through your brain, there's nothing you can do to me that I can't take. You're never gonna scare me off.
So think about how you want this to go, before you try to start a scene.
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so he shrugs, expression relaxing as he reaches back for his food.
...right before what could be some sort of metal bolas fly at her, the launcher aimed right for her neck. if scaring won't work, then he'll just go to the next step.
it's not like she's convinced him he needs her.]
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But Robert, what about the baby!
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he eats without seeming to care, either about the bolas' actual landing, or Harley's recovery. it's only when she leans across him does he pause, looking forwards
and then make a very deliberate decision to elbow her as hard as he can in the gut]
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The air is forced out of her, but she still grips his arm with surprising strength, her other hand pushing down on his shoulder so she can launch into a handspring off him. A twist in the air and she comes down again on his lap, thighs clamped on either side of him and one hand gripping his hair. The other suddenly, inexplicable, holding a wooden hammer. ]
Now now, Puddin'! Just 'cuz I love you doesn't mean I won't bash your head in if you don't play nice!
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#thatescalatedquickly
Robert hadn't taken her for anything more than an airhead, and now he's realizing how much of that was for show. his teeth bare in surprise as he reaches up to grab her wrist to stop the weapon, his other at her shoulder, the workshop practically alive as everything with moving parts seems to wake up and aim directly at his threat
and for a long few seconds he just stares at her.
then, finally, dubiously;]
'Puddin'?
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Puddin. Pumpkin. Sweetcheeks.
Or are you more in the mood for "oooh, Professor, I'll do just anything for extra credit"?
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Enough.
[get off him and he'll consider this a draw.]
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She glances at the lunch spilled when he first attacked and frowns. ]
What a mess. Just look what you made me do, you rude man!
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if this ends up with him putting the feet up on the table well that sure is a way of showing how little shits he gives.]
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Now. Let's try this again.
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no he's not pouting fuck youand give her a bland look. and then no look at all, as he looks around, using this...power of his to get everything he can back in to place. it's not a matter of magnetics; some of the materials here are non-ferrous. and it only seems to apply to the pieces that can be called actual machines...]Why are you here?
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Have you just, like, never had a friend? Ever?
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[okay...not quite true. when he was in the military, yes, but not exactly with the whole straddling thing, and that was only during training.]
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So come on, spill. What are you hiding away for, all dark and gloomy and totally cliche?
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I'm trying to make sense of my memories.
[thanks for helping him out with that, by the way. you're a great friend.]
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And what've you got so far?
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