milliways_bar | (no subject)

"The black gloves? The red labcoat?"

Yeesh. Hasn't she ever seen a proper villain before?

Yes.

She mostly finds them annoying.

"Those aren't the science part?"

"They're that, too."

He stops, stares at her suspiciously.

"Why all the questions?"

"Because... you're wearing all that stuff?"

This seems reasonable to her.

"Well, it's pretty normal, in my opinion."

He coughs, slightly self-conscious.

"For evil scientists?"

This could be true. Even if the description would probably be accurate for most of the scientists Elle knows, she wouldn't think to use the label.

"Yes, exactly. You have to take these things in context."

Beat.

"Are there a lot of them?"

"Well... not in my area. That would just be confusing."

Because they all wear red coats and black gloves and goggles.

That makes sense.

"So you just... dress like that and... are in your league thing?"

Maybe he also has experiments. But he seems a little focused on the 'image' thing.

"I also invent things, and carry out experiments."

He's very proud of this. "I've made lots of advancements. Right now, I'm working on a teleportation machine and something that will help me never have to sleep."

He gestures eloquently to the drink. "I usually use myself as the guinea pig, of course."

For an evil scientist, he's certainly much more gracious than most of the scientists Elle knows.

But what she asks is: "You need a machine to teleport?"

Could be because he's sleepy.

"Well. Not need. Just... makes things convenient."

Most of the scientists Elle knows tended to use other people as their guinea pigs.

(Like Elle.)

"No one in your world just - does it?"

"Uh... I wish. No, we definitely need machines for that."

Elle shrugs one shoulder.

"Okay."

Apparently, that's all she thinks she needs to say on the matter.

"Why?" he asks, lightly. "They do that in yours?"

"Some people."

Pause.

She clarifies, completely unabashed, "I don't."

"Wow. Consider my mind blown."

After a moment: "What do you do?"

Elle pauses.

But quickly enough, she lifts one of her newly-repaired hands, her fingers curling slightly around her palm. It takes a few seconds, but bright, blue-white sparks start snapping between her fingers, before becoming numerous enough to gather into a small, crackling sphere above her palm.

He gapes.

"That's... beautiful."

It's not the first time she's heard that. But she hasn't gotten tired of it, either.

After a few seconds, she lets the sparks go out, and closes her hand again.

"No one does that, either?"

"Uh..."

He blinks, recollects himself.

"No. Unless you count static shock."

She shakes her head. Elle knows the difference.

"That's not what I do."

"I... uh, yeah. I figured."