fandomhigh | Fast Talking, Monday, Period 2

Isabela was alone at the front of class this morning, not looking particularly concerned about her co-teacher's absence. "Now, one of the first obstacles that people come across when attempting to fast talk people is the issue of trust. Some people are terrible liars, others are naturally suspicious and treat everyone like they're untrustworthy. Sure some of those people are, but is that really any way to live?"

The point, Isabela. "Anyway, while you can work on improving your fake sincerity, sometimes you just need to lean into things."

"Love the hair," Aphra announced as she entered the room, pointing at a random student. "It's so daring. I could never do that. Now, I'm either obviously lying and you're getting paranoid about your style choices, or maybe I'm being sincere and you're second guessing your snap judgement. In any case, you're completely distracted from my fashionably late entrance."

Or they just had extremely low expectations.

"So today we're going to work on lying to each other," Isabela said. "You can either try to convince each other of things that aren't true, or convince them you're lying about something that is. Can you catch each other out?"

Or just go down a path of increasing paranoia.

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Stewart scoffed, shaking his head at Arden as he smirked. "Well, that's the easiest lie to pick out of any of them," he pointed out. "How many times do people find themselves clutching at their porcelain thrones spewing grand resolutions of abstinence and avoidance, only to find themselves back in that very same place within the blink of another weekend and the promise of proactive parsimonious partying this time. Did you at least..." This time, his eyebrow joined the corner of his smirk in lifting, "...have someone to hold back your hair? Did you need a little something to help heal the hangover?"

He fished out from his pocket a small, unmarked orange plastic pharmaceutical bottle and tossed it Arden's way.

"It's entirely over-the-counter," he said, "promise."

On the one hand, Arden wanted to protest that she hadn't thrown up, thank you. But that would lead to Stewart asking her what had been so bad and she had no idea how to explain, 'I accidentally maybe started some kind of orgy riot on the dance floor and needed to be rescued by one of my teachers' without also blaming 'bullshit magic powers'?

So instead she just grimaced. "Yeah, Gray was there for me. Thank the goddess. I don't know what I would have done without him." She eyed the bottle and then opened it up to peer at the pills inside. "Ibuprofen?" she guessed.

"Yeah," said Stewart, who shrugged as he slouched back in his chair, spreading with comfortable nonchalance, "sure."

His hands pulled into his chest, fingertips touching into a pyramid before him as he observed Arden thoughtfully.

"Baby's first blowout?" he guessed.

"I think my definition of blowout and yours are different," Arden said. "You mean like...time at a club? Time drunk? Time drinking? All of the above."

Stewart squinted a little, trying to think back to what he might have been able to classify as his own first blowout, and realized that there'd been too many to really tell. But what did come to mind...huddled on the steps of the Letterkenny Walk-In Clinic before they opened, barely able to see, it was a wonder he'd even made it there at all, and then...

And, yeah....you did used to charm me.

That had been the first blowout to lead him to a genuine effort to clean up. And didn't that just work out wondrously....

"Definitions," he stated, "are all arbitrary, anyway."

He looked at Arden a moment longer, sighed, and then shifted, leaning forward again to dig something else out of his pocket, this time something in a small little container like what someone would use to keep their salad dressing in for their lunch at work, handing it over to her with one hand and then holding out the other with a gesture of his hand to tell her to give her the first one.

"These," he told her, with a shake of the small container, "actually are ibuprofen. Baby's probably not ready for those yet."

Arden looked up at him, eyes wide and a little hurt. "What...what are they?" she asked. "You--you weren't gonna--"

No. Surely not. She was probably supposed to challenge him and call him out on the lie, and just hadn't. Because he had made sure she hadn't left with them.

"Arden." Now Stewart was really scoffing, a derisive one, with a shake of his head. "You aren't seriously going to tell me that you were going to just take drugs given to you by a shady character in a class specifically focused around lying, were you?"

His lifted his brows at her like he was waiting for an answer, but he didn't give her much time to give one before he scoffed again, slouching back, but this time, folding his arms in front of him, he melted almost into a rueful, pouting demeanor.

"You'd have been fine, anyway," he informed her. "They're just laxatives."

OR. WERE. THEY??

"I don't know," Arden said, honestly. "I didn't disbelieve you when you said they were ibuprofen. I mean, I know we're supposed to be lying, but..." She stared off into the distance and when she spoke again, it was clearly more to herself than him. "I'm letting myself get too soft, too trusting. Stupid mistakes easily avoided."

Fast Talking, Monday, Period 2

Re: Truth and Lies - FT [03]

Re: Truth and Lies - FT [03]

Re: Truth and Lies - FT [03]

Re: Truth and Lies - FT [03]

Re: Truth and Lies - FT [03]

Re: Truth and Lies - FT [03]

Re: Truth and Lies - FT [03]

Re: Truth and Lies - FT [03]