riverview | 001 # text # un: skyenet

i could throw swords at you and you could magically dodge them?
or play guess the lady's age while you sneak a peek in their wallets?

we could create a hustling empire with your party tricks, my friend

Clearly this should be my new calling in life.
Though I wonder how my friends will feel about you corrupting me.

The only thing stopping us is there isn't anywhere for us to go once people catch on.

there is so much more i could corrupt than just your attempts at making a living, for the record

and clearly that just means we need to hit up a few thrift shops first
we need to work on our stage personas, come up with our fake names

Then I guess I'm going to have to keep a closer eye on you going forward.

But it sounds like you got everything planned out here.
All I have to be is the pretty face who does as he's told.

oh no, what a tragedy

( he's going to have to hang out with her more? he'll have to keep an eye on her? what a shame, truly. )

i never imagined my first pillow princess would be a speedster
but hey, i'm flexible

There are just some sacrifices that have to be made.

[ For some reason he gets the feeling this one won't be too painful for either of them. ]

As funny as that is
I assure you a pillow princess I am not.

what a terrible life you must lead, making sacrifices to hang out with me

( the ultimate battle of ridiculousness. )

oh yeah?
and how exactly do you plan on proving that?

Are we trying to be poetic now?
Oh the sacrifices I make for she who quakes.

[ Wally is thankful for her encryption so nobody else can bear witness to what a huge dork he is. ]

Now this might sound a little crazy.
Insane, even.
But you could take my word for it?

you know, as far as flashy alter egos go, quake's pretty good
i might steal that

( she's pretty sure they all know. that magnitude of dorkiness is pretty hard to hide. )

and THAT sounds like a cop-out
you can totally do better than that

Whatever you do, don't leave the name thing up to the media.
That's how I got stuck with Kid Flash back in the day.

[ And despite the second part having the first five letters in common, the name definitely wasn't flashy. Though he did grow to love it because it was ultimately his. ]

I thought friends were supposed to trust each other, Skye.

[ The previous answer was definitely a cop-out, and this one is avoidance. Mostly because he isn't sure what the right or wrong answer is here. ]

kid flash is cute, though
clearly you're just a tiny cheetah cub in disguise

( it's a dangerous game of Nobody Knows The Answer, aka they're both playing with fire and probably going to wind up feeling particularly foolish as a result. so, obviously, skye doesn't know when to stop. )

you can't say you're not a pillow princess and expect me to just believe you without some kind of proof, wally.
what kind of friend would i be if i didn't hold fast to the scientific method?

Maybe when I was in grade school.
I've dropped the kid part, btw.

[ If the easy way out and avoidance tactics fail, then he has to resort to option three which is to pass the baton back to her in hopes it makes her drop it. ]

Okay, fine miss I-need-some-proof.
How do you think I should go about proving it?

sorry, you're still cute
i don't make the rules

( nuh-uh. this is a game of vaguely (?) flirtatious chicken. she patently refuses to be the person to duck out of the way. )

are you telling me you've never proven you're not a pillow princess before?
i find that extremely hard to believe, mr we're-all-in-this-together.

Guess I can't argue with the rules.
Never expected you to be such a stickler for them, though.

[ He has no intentions of being the one to back down either even if he's not exactly sure what game it is they are playing anymore. ]

Hey, you are the one putting the onus on me to prove something here.
I just want to know what you need to be satisfied.

a girl's got to have some mystery about her, you know
keeps things interesting

( wally. you just walked right into this... )

what i need? well, that depends
are we talking getting handsy in a closet or a day off and plenty of time to kill?
satisfied is a spectrum, mr west

Things have been interesting since you arrived.
That's for sure.

[ More like he ran into it headfirst completely unaware of the potential danger. Good thing it never takes him long to recover. ]

I naturally assumed we were talking multiple scenarios.
Else you'd be left with a potential outlier as proof.
Wouldn't be very scientific of you.

i'm choosing to take that as a compliment, so thank you.

( for two people who weren't intending to flirt, they sure are doing a terrible job of not flirting... )

i wouldn't want to ignore the requirements of the scientific method
should we start with a control, then?
maybe dinner, get frisky at the movies?

That is certainly one way to interpret it.

[ Wally knows this playful back and forth between them has been straddling some sort of line from almost the beginning, but after the last few exchanges, he thinks they might have left the line behind? At least he suddenly feels very much like an awkward schoolboy with a crush who also happens to have some serious adult issues to deal with.

Though the most startling revelation here is he doesn't want whatever this is to stop. Not that he's actually sure there is anything to it since he's never been able to tell when a girl is interested unless they practically bash him over the head with it. It's something his Aunt Iris used to tease him relentlessly about back when she knew he existed. ]

I don't see how one could decline.
I mean.
There is science involved.

( whatever this might wind up being, it's probably not a date. at least, she doesn't think it's a date. technically speaking, they've been joking around, but... well, have they? is he giving a vaguely affirmative answer out of pity or friendly obligation, or is he actually interested? the world may never know. skye certainly doesn't. )

try not to sound too excited, senor speedy
i might think you're in this for the science and not the spectacular company on offer

ps: tacos or waffles?

[ She shouldn't expect things to get much clearer on his end while he tries to navigate this minefield of uncertainty. ]

If it makes you feel better
I don't do science with just anyone.

ps: waffles?

idk how i feel about waffles for dinner
i like my breakfast bread for the morning after

( there's a part of her brain that just flatlines when confronted with the process of actually discussing said meal plans. how to talk about it without asking flat out "so are we going to dinner and a movie"? she's not sure. so, obviously... not talking about it seems like the better option. better to just keep swimming along. )

maybe i'll let you pick as part of our experiment
send me an address and i'll meet you there

( unless you want to pick me up, typed out and then deleted. )

[ Wally sends her back a quick text containing an address of a diner a few short blocks from the apartment building where she lives. The idea of waffles for dinner isn't one he is locked in on, but it's as good a place as any for them to meet up with there being several other places offering different food choices and a movie theater in the general vicinity.

Best to have all the bases covered when the game plan for this adventure of theirs doesn't appear to be set in stone.

It's only natural that he arrives at the diner first wearing the best pair of jeans he has and a simple white shirt with long blue sleeves. He really doesn't own any clothes fancier than what he has on, not that this outing is an occasion for such things by any stretch of the imagination.

The dilemma about arriving first is it gives him plenty of time to replay their text conversation in his head trying to see if there were any cues he missed by being his typical dense self. But by the end of his internal analyzation, he has thoroughly convinced himself that whatever extra was there is just something he created in his mind.

Sure, there was some subtle flirting going on, but the whole thing was way too ridiculous for it to be serious. Honestly, he's surprised she's still willing to hang out with an idiot like him. He really couldn't let go of the science thing there a the end, could he?

Deciding he has done way too much thinking on the matter, he pulls out his phone, so he can play a game to distract himself while he waits just outside the diner. A game he becomes so immersed in that he fails to notice Skye when she does happen to make her approach. ]

( she doesn't mean to be late. she'd just lost track of time; balancing a strange urge to go through every single shirt in her closet with tending to the bandaging and careful application of topical pain relief she'd gotten from the doctor, and then of course her quick stop at the pharmacy, meant she'd completely missed any internal alarms she might have set to get her moving on-time.

on the plus side, running late means her brain doesn't quite have time to overthink the entire conversation yet, as it's a little too preoccupied with making sure she doesn't stab her own eyes out with kohl eyeliner. eyeliner that is, unsurprisingly, a little more difficult to put on when your arms don't quite want to cooperate.

on the other hand, though, running late means running late, which she really hates. by the time the taxi she'd hailed pulls up to the little diner, skye's embarrassed enough that she practically flies out the passenger door, head turning back to wave furiously at the driver in thanks as she sprints towards the entrance.

or, you know, right smack into the man waiting for her ever-so-patiently by the door. maybe she should have been looking ahead instead of back while sprinting. )

God, Wally, I'm so — ( clumsy, apparently. ) Sorry. Are you okay?

( thankfully, she's not dead, just consistently embarrassed by her own stupidity. )

[ The force of the unexpected contact is enough to knock the phone free from Wally's grasp, but it also causes his speedster instincts to kick in which allows him to place a steadying hand on the hip of whoever ran into him in case they need it, before his other hand darts down to catch the falling device right before it makes contact with the ground.

The flash of movement ultimately leaves him in some awkward half-crouching position with his hand still on the person's hip and his head reaching up to about the height of their waist. A bright smile slowly makes its' way onto his face as he looks up to find out the culprit was none other than the person he was waiting on. ]

I'm okay. [ Of course he can't let the incident go by without a little teasing. ] But if you want to get my attention in the future, a simple hey would do the trick. Not that I'm complaining about your particularly unique greeting style.

[ He should probably remove his hand from her hip and stand up now, so he does, casually slipping the phone into his pocket as well. ]

So how did the visit with Doctor Frankenstein go? Was the experience as weird as I imagine it would be?

[ It's true he's only heard positive things about the good doctor who is here and that's what matters. But, still, it's Doctor Frankenstein. ]

( she's not normally a super touchy-feely kind of person. hugs and hand-holding and general contact aren't the sorts of things skye initiates on her own, and they usually take a bit of time before she's ready to accept them from other people. jemma had to wait a full month before skye would let the other girl hug her. but for whatever reason, wally's steadying palm across her hip avoids the normal reaction of stiffening in her spine completely; instead, skye just settles into the touch, reaching out to help him up from his crouch when he moves to adjust his stance. )

I'll keep that in mind. ( she doesn't realize it, but her expression swiftly mirrors his own, a grin curving over her mouth as his fingers drag away from her hip. ) Not that sweeping you off your feet couldn't be fun, but I figure you'd really have to earn that.

( what? what does that even mean? at least she can answer a question about her doctoral visit without sounding like a completely besotted weirdo. )

It was ... fine? I guess? ( really descriptive, she knows. ) I mean, he was nice, but my brain just kept screaming this is Doctor Frankenstein the whole time. So, yeah. Pretty much exactly as weird as you'd expect a house call from Doctor Frankie to be.

( a pause as skye reaches to re-adjust the wrap currently keeping her forearms neatly compressed, the ones intended to be better for healing while she figures out a more long-term solution. )

What about you? Have any luck figuring out your disguise for our big act?

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