Science Experiments: A Tale of Two Antagonists

Inque

I nod, walking along next to him still. "The 'face invasion', you so aptly call it," I start with a smirk. He's so childish sometimes... "It's normally referred to as a 'kiss'. A show of endearment and affection. Or lust, in some situations. And its generally returned, though if you simply do it randomly then it will be an invasion of space. Which I suppose you categorize it as, with the suddenness at lunch."

Edgar:

"Isn't the fact that someone sits at the same table with someone else for an extended period of time a sufficient demonstration of such affections? And what exactly goes to returning such... ...actions? Isn't just sitting there and not responding in a violently negative way enough?" Apparently there was very much that I was missing out on here. "Also... What exactly provoked the sudden...intrusion at lunch?"

Inque

"Sort of, though mere friends sit at tables with one another. It's a show of a more involved relationship," I say. "The intrusion was to get what's-her-face away, because she was simply suspecting a joke. We have to make our relationship seem real so as to have the social experiment pan out correctly, right?" Or at least, so I thought he wanted. I didn't care; I just like messing with people.
Describing a kiss... How I didn't want to do this. "And...I dunno. You just kiss back...." Not that I was any good at it. Vaguely, I have the memories... When I was in my past host, though I still wasn't exactly put together enough to remember well. "It's gentle, it's passionate..." Well, one way to put it into perspective, I suppose... "It's sexual."

Edgar:

"...And that is suppoused to be intuitive? ...Is there some kind of 'humanity user manual' for this nonsense?" I asked, though her logic for the intrusion earlier today was at least sound. Made sense to me. Just kind of... unexpectedly intrusive to my face, really. "And I expect that we would have to keep up with the charade, yes. It is highly amusing to eavesdrop about the new events." I stated as we continued to close the distance between the school and the house.

Inque

"You're the one who orders the odd books from the computer, not me." I grin and giggle. "And we're still holding hands, aren't we?" Though I let go, skipping ahead through the slight crowd on the street to our door. Hurry up and get out of this rain....

Edgar:

"...And there are some things that I am certain should not be purchased off line, for fear that they...be misinterpreted...the Internet has some... bizarre things that I don't know would be appropriate to have lying around." I replied, feeling her leave and continue up ahead. Probably still avoidance of rain...which again was understandable.

I had to wonder what she meant by pointing out that we hadn't disengaged our hands until she left. ...Was it suppoused to prove some kind of point?

Inque

I go inside after he unlocks the door, kicking off my shoes in the apartment. "Do you know what a hug is?" Oh god, if he doesn't, I swear... He'll simply reach new levels of thought to be unreachable pathetic in my mind....

Edgar:

"A ridiculously saccharine beverage that comes in small plastic barrels." I responded factually. "Why, do you want to attain some on our next trip to the grocery?" I inquired, standing there just behind the closed door somewhat awkwardly. Normally I would have gone to sit down after locking it behind me, however considering our current lack of seating... that wasn't a fantastic idea. That issue should be mitigated in a few hours though, so we will not have to worry too much longer about standing or sitting arrangements.

Inque

"...As a verb. To hug," I clairify, going to sit back down on my spread of blanket on the floor. Woooowwwww.... I was NOT going to demonstrate that one. Nope, not ever.

Edgar:

"...Based on our current conversational topics and some other inferences...I'm going to assume it's some means of physical demonstration of affection that in some way violates space. And may or may not demand a barrel to be done properly." I guessed, remaining standing for the time being. It was only slightly odd, dimensionally.

Inque

In a huff, I lay down on the floor. I simply wanted to be done with this affections business. Silliness, all of it. "No, no barrel," I say after a pause of staring at the crevassed ceiling. I was still wet from sitting on the pavement outside too long. I sit up again, though I'm in such a mood to be lazy... "If you'll be stuttering along with etiquette again as you did this morning, you may go upstairs." Yet as I speak, I'm already pulling my shirt over my head to get out of the uncomfortably damp thing.

Edgar:

It was a very good thing that I was formally dismissed, because otherwise I would have felt obliged to make some kind of comment about why she had chosen not to dismiss me and really it would have probably lead to something simply oozing pedantry of the least amusing kind. At least this way I could depart. "Inform me as to when you've finished..." I stated as I made my way up the stairs, pointedly ignoring any resonant movements from downstairs. I closed the upstairs door and that in combination with the loud whirring of the OS prototype were enough to keep me from hearing anything. Here I sat on the floor, despite the fact that it was carpet. Carpet is horrible acoustically, but fantastic to sit on.

...I wondered what hugs the beverage had to do with hugs the action, if they didn't share any barrels in common.

Inque
So out of the wet shirt, skirt, and socks. I just put on a large shirt...which covered enough. Exactly what was the point of a skirt at that point then?
I go up the stairs and open the door, walking in with no hesitation to sit in front of him. There's a moment before I simply grin. "Isn't leaving enough to solve the privacy issue?" I ask.

Edgar:

"Not necessarily...you see, I can still hear clear down there with the door open. I didn't want to intrude." I answered calmly.

"What time was the furniture suppoused to arrive?" I inquired, now that everyone was dressed again...thankfully.

Inque
I move next to him, leaning against the wall. "I dunno," I say, playing with the hem of the shirt. I peek up at him. "Didn't want to intrude, and yet I don't have bottoms on..." The smile comes back slightly again.

Edgar:

"From my understanding of female clothing, they make a habit of wearing one exceptionally long item of clothing and calling it being well-dressed. I was unaware that this was suppoused to be a different circumstance. If you'd like, I can go somewhere else until you attain more clothing, or if you would like to operate under standard female protocol and call that proper attire, I suppouse we could simply drop the subject and pretend that female clothing is appropriate." I stated quickly. How am I suppoused to interpret the difference between one bottomless wardrobe piece and another? I feel like this was a trick question of some sort.

Inque
"I'm being lazy..." I say back in a mocking factual tone. "Why is it an issue? The school has locker rooms to change in. Boys change with boys and girls change with girls. And you don't care about genders, so why should my changing matter if you're around or not?" I look at him, a fake look of indignancy

Edgar:

"The school also has computational curricula which are over fifteen years out of date. Who is to say that the rest of their principles aren't similarly medieval? ...I have stated already that it's more a privacy thing than anything. And a hopefully reciprocal courtesy." I stated pointedly, thinking back to that one day when... Really I don't even want to talk about it. One should not intrude another's mind like that and then just discreetly camp out there until it was nicely timed to reveal oneself.

Inque
My face splits in a grin and I giggle. "I let you know, didn't I?" Whichever situation I was talking of now... "And I explained privacy doesn't exist for me. It's just for your comfort." I tilt my head at him. "So what's the issue?"

Edgar:

"Perhaps it is for my comfort that I choose to leave the room. I mean, just standing there listening to you is exceedingly awkward. It's much easier to just leave the room until you're done with whatever you're doing, and then re-initiate conversation after that point." I tried to explain. "And informing post-intrusion isn't really an acceptable way to deal with news like that...I mean, honestly." I added, just to reinforce that as a concept.

Inque

"Would you have rather I had said nothing?" I ask him, sitting up on my knees to be even with him. "Just went along and stayed in you the whole day, or kiss you without a word, or simply change downstairs to have you patronize me?" Honestly, he was confusing the hell out of me. "What, exactly, is the difference?"

Edgar:

"No. I would have rather been warned with enough advance notice to be able to accept the circumstances on my own terms. The kissing thing wasn't nearly as much of an issue as the other, because at least there you gave some form of forewarning, and the short notice was understandable." I tried to explain. "You see, with enough forewarning, pretty much anything is acceptable. It just has to be put forth in a way that I can process the pros and cons and come to a logical conclusion, permitting either acceptance of the proposition or rejection based on a logical data set."

I noticed that she was now at my 'eye' level, and I wondered what exactly that dynamic shift had to do with anything, if it was relevant at all to our current conversation, or if I was simply over analysing things.

Inque

"Hmmmmmmm... That's silly," I conclude in just a second. "You forewarn when you attack someone. Faced against someone with skill, that wouldn't be in your favor. There are stupid levels of politeness, it seems. You're pretty up there." There's a knock at the door, to which I simply turn around to look at the stairs. Blahhh, I wanted to be lazy... "Must I answer it so as to not have the movers freak out?"

Edgar:

"It would be best if you answered it, yes. And I am not polite to the point of stupidity..." I stated, but not having any actual evidence of that with which to back up my claim. "Do you think I should stay up here for the entirety of the delivery process or... How should we go about this?" I asked, not wanting to induce more intense stupidity from random people.

Inque

Blah, fine. I stand, fixing my large shirt for comfort. "Well they're going to come up here and see you sooner or later," I say as I go off down the stairs. Why should I decide that? Make your own decisions with those things, Face...
Impatient knocking sounds again, and I fling open the door to see the plywood people. They're surprised by the suddenness, and then by what I'm wearing, and jump when I say, "Gonna stand out in the rain all day? It goes upstairs. My boyfriend will explain how to lay it all out." It wasn't my ears having problems with the flooring after all.