recolle | If you come down / we'll go to town

If you come down / we'll go to town

WHO: Christopher Fawkes and Rosalind Lutece
WHERE: The arcade
WHEN: 5/13
WHAT: Video games! And science. Mostly science. Science is pretty much always gonna be the focus as far as Rosalind is concerned.

[This is going to be fun, Rosalind thinks as she parks her BMW.

Most people wouldn't consider a mini-experiment on video games to be fun, but she isn't most people. Rosalind has been looking forward to this from the moment she and Christopher came up with the idea, fascinated by the prospect of getting to watch herself as both the experimenter and the subject. She's written up a list of things her assistant ought to focus on: her attention span, her ability to play the game and how she improves (or not) between each round, what behaviors the game has her learn, so on and so forth. Ideally she'd like to measure things like heart rate and brain pattern, but one can't have all the equipment one wants when one is messing about in an arcade, and anyway, this isn't going to be a particularly intense paper.

(It'll be good, too, to have something to work on that's sensible. She's a bit tired of mysteries that she isn't able to permeate. That doesn't mean she's giving up, but this will be a good diversion).

And this will be fun, too, on other levels. She really does want to simply sit and play this stupid game with Fawkes, if for no other reason than to have a solid defense the next time her assistant teases her on her lack of knowledge.

It's 1:45 now, and Rosalind walks down the street at his side, clad in jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. With her hair braided back, she looks more like a college student than a proper professor. Which is the point, of course, and she's pleased it was so easy to pull off.]

You ought to take a picture of this. To commemorate. I don't have any from my actual undergrad years; I might as well have at least one picture where I look like a college student.

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[The fact of the matter is, every bit of this project is a ridiculous farce — but then, what grand work of academic scholarship isn't, really?

It just goes to show, Kit muses as they walk, that just about any idea can end up sounding like a good and legitimate one, so long as it's properly packaged. Surely no respectable scholarly journal of any variety would be willing to publish a study based solely on the premise of wanting to play a lot of video games and somehow receive acclaim from the intelligentsia for it. But set up with the right format, and perhaps even with the right name attached — say, for example, a widely-renowned and respected scholar like R. Lutece — and sure, it might actually stand a chance of going somewhere...

(A name credit. Co-authorship, even. Now there's a way of getting noticed...)

But that's getting ahead of himself, he muses, and likely he shouldn't get too preoccupied with dreaming too big too early. For the moment, perhaps, he ought to keep his sights a little narrower, and just focus on the fact that he's committed his Saturday afternoon to some time at the arcade, and what he's certain will be the distinct pleasure of watching his professor rip some people's heads off in a fighting game.]

You'll blend in admirably, I assure you. I already know who you are and even I almost didn't recognize you at first glance.

[Uncanny, how deceiving looks can be. No, wait — not just looks, but looks and expectations alike.]

What sort of picture am I taking, though? A selfie or a G-P-O-Y?

How many times do I have to tell you not to be fresh? You'll be taking neither, because it'll be you taking the picture and not me, to start with, and secondly, because I shan't be posting it anywhere.

[She elbows him lightly, then takes a few steps back, drawing them to a halt.]

Now. Tell me when.

It's hardly being fresh. I'm taking it with my camera and sending it to you, then?

[He shrugs, more inclined to do as she says than to really protest, and fishes his phone out of his pocket to call up his camera.]

All right. On the count of three, say "Curie".

Franklin--

[She drawls, just to be contrary, but it's a nice smile she offers for the camera. This is a silly photo, taken on a silly day, and she likely won't even save it after a few days, but she's pleased to have done it nonetheless.

She comes to his side the moment the photo is done, peering over his shoulder to try and see.]

Send it on that app, please, not my phone number.

"Franklin" doesn't have the long "e" sound that makes the sides of your mouth pull back, O incredibly contrary professor mine.

[He rolls his eyes at her, shaking his head in amusement as he proceeds to hit a few buttons to save the photo in preparation of sending it to her.]

But there you are. A perfectly average university student, to all appearances.

Fantastic.

[She grins as she draws back, pushing off his shoulder and falling into step beside him.]

Are we using code names, have you determined, or will my proper first name do, so long as I'm in disguise?

[Beep bop boop, off it goes, and he pockets his phone again.]

You're really getting into this, aren't you. Let's go with a codename; I can't very well call you by your first name, I'll undoubtedly forget myself and slip into "Dr. Lutece" instead.

[Hmmm.]

Let's see. What's your favorite novel?

I never got to do this kind of thing when I was in college. I'm rather relishing the chance to experience it at all.

[Which is true, yes, but it's also a way to delay him, because she's absolutely not going to tell him her real favorite novel. Mm, what would be a good substitute . . .]

Pride and Prejudice comes to mind. And Elizabeth is more than suitable enough for someone British.

Oh, are we doing British names, then? I suppose it'd be a little too obvious to have you calling me Guy, wouldn't it.

[Might as well sidestep the obvious Mr. Darcy joke because who the fuck wants to be called Fitzwilliam, anyway. Fitz Fawkes? Good god.]

James is a bit much, I'm not very fond of Jim...let's try Jack. I suppose I can think to answer to Jack for a few hours.

Jack and Elizabeth, how charming. We could star in the next Pirates film.

[But she's pleased, clearly, as she pushes her hands into her pockets.

The arcade itself is a cozy thing, more comfortable and laid back than she'd expected. It's still noisy, of course, so much so that Rosalind winces as they walk in, but it's nothing overwhelming. There's all kinds of games, ranging from shooters to racing games to the more classic. She's proud to say she knows at least one game here; Pac-Man is right at the forefront.]

Lead the way, Jack.

Well, you said you wanted a fighting game, isn't that right?

[In contrast to "Elizabeth", he doesn't seem particularly affected by the sudden noise and flash of their surroundings, but whether that's because the volume doesn't bother him or just because he was steeled and ready for what to expect in advance is really anyone's guess.

He nods at her, though, starting to weave his way across the arcade floor, deliberate enough that she'll end up a step behind him instead of right at his side, but patient enough that he's not at risk of losing her as she tails him, either.]

Back here. Let's try one of the classics.

[She'll have her pick of fighting games, it seems: nearly every one they pass seems to have that as its theme. Rosalind eyes them curiously, but it's Mortal Kombat they stop at, a game whose name gets a little nose wrinkle.]

All right. Do you remember what to observe?

Rate of improvement, learned behaviors, attention span...

[He goes right down the list, rattling them off almost pleasantly.]

I assume we'll be starting you playing against the computer, and not against a human challenger. There are advantages to that; a computer is far less likely to innovate, and it's much more predictable in its patterns.

Precisely so. We'll try for three trials, and see what improvement, if any, I gain. It's a boon you know the game, you can look for things that I'd miss.

[Combos and bonus points, things of that nature. Rosalind slips the quarters into the machine, resists the urge to ask Fawkes how to play, and begins.

It's a fairly poor attempt at first, truth be told. She grasps the punching and kicking buttons rather quickly, but she's killed almost immediately in the first round. The second is a little better, and she figures out jumping, but still: K.O. She scowls at that, aware of the boy behind her, but the whole point of this exercise is that she doesn't know how to play.

The second attempt is better. Not particularly good, but better. It's a close call in the first round (though she still gets beaten); the second is even closer. Rosalind is invested now, biting down hard on her bottom lip, her fingers moving rapidly over the buttons. She's learned which is which from muscle memory alone, and that's impressive enough, for a person who never plays these kinds of games.

The third try, however, is where she truly triumphs. Not with any skill or finesse, no, she simply pins her opponent in the corner and spams the kicking button until they die, but what the hell, it netted her a victory, hadn't it? She spins the moment the victory screen starts playing, beaming over at her assistant.]

So there!

[To his credit, he's doing his best to watch her play and take all the notes she's after, but the fact of the matter is he's going to have to fudge some of them in the long run because after a while, he sort of forgets about strict scientific inquiry and just gets caught up in watching her enjoy herself.

She hasn't gotten the hang of comboing yet, nor of chaining moves, and yet with the limited skill set she did have, she still figured out a strategy that would let her win — yes, inelegantly, but a slapdash win is still just as much a win.]

Well, the obvious improvement is right there to be seen. In three games you went from being steamrolled to eking out a victory of your own.

[Of course she had. Rosalind's smirking now, beyond pleased with herself.]

Now against a human opponent, hm?

I hope you don't mean me. For one thing, I'm observing. Objectively.

[He pauses.]

And for another thing, you'll never forgive me if and when I hand you a resounding defeat at this.

You observed, yes, and now you're going to observe firsthand as I play against someone experienced. One whose arrogance is noted, thank you, and who will be reminded of this when I trounce him.

Very well, Elizabeth, but don't say you weren't warned when I inevitably rip out your character's spine.

[SO I GUESS WE'RE DOING THIS THEN]

[WE SURE ARE, and Ros is even paying, how nice of her.]

Play this often, do you?

I wouldn't say often. But I'm confident I know something you don't.

[He says, as he gets into position and takes up his controls. He chooses Scorpion, of course, because why wouldn't he.]

Don't be a brat. No one likes arrogance.

[That's all very fondly said, of course, and she even echoes it with a slight nudge of her elbow. She goes for Kitana, primarily because she's female and there's too much testosterone in her life as it is.]

Ready?

But of course.

[But, of course, as soon as control is given to the players when the initial introductions are through, his fingers fly over the controls and Scorpion delivers a classic COME OVER HERE to Kitana in short order.]

[LIKE HELL. She knows she's going to lose, of course, not only because she's new at this but because he adores video games, so naturally he's going to be better. But she'd like to at least survive for thirty seconds.

So no. She's not going to come over. Her strategy is going to consist of a lot of running and jumping, and maybe some kicking if he ends up cornering her.]

[He has to hand it to her; she's definitely got a good head for strategy when it comes to this sort of thing. She's aware that his skills and familiarity with the game are just objectively better, and so she's making it more difficult for him to inflict damage by simply making it harder to catch her in the first place. She really does have a knack for this, doesn't she...

But by the same token, he continues to use combo moves with deft skill, pursuing her around the stage and using Scorpion's moveset as best he can to try to inflict damage.]

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