Today concludes finals and virtually everything important within my education, for now, at least. Hopefully I can start relaxing soon, my back is killing me.
ThinkRANDOMLY: I'm not answering anymore questions.
ElizaDescole: Suffice to say, you may have to wait a bit, perhaps.
Sicomba: Oh dear, the references, they're too much for my feelings. Apologies while I go get a small tissue.
Maict: Contrary to popular belief, Rosetta was not a part of that group. An ignored minority if anything.
The Mocking J: This was definitely one of my intentions since the story began, yes.
Sakya-Chan: I know that experience all too well, it's part of where the idea comes from.
Imagine Worlds: Remember that it was a 'so long', not a goodbye. There's nothing stopping either of them from visiting the other.
Want to send in your thoughts? Why not review? A response is always guaranteed whether your views on the story are good, so-so, or even bad!
Spoilers?: Depends. If you've scraped the surface of what's there to know about Azran Legacy, perhaps. But on the other hand, you also sort-of need that barrel scraping in order to discern a certain character here.
Location: A Local Cafe, London.
Timeline: After Miracle Mask but before Azran Legacy.
Track Listened to While Writing: Ink Workshop from Professor Layton vs. Ace Attorney
Word Count: 242 words.
Tip NO. 021: Meetings
"Luke my boy, isn't it rather intriguing to know that there are potentially hundreds of people out in the world who know about you, yet you in return only know a handful of that perceived population?"
He blinks twice subconsciously at disbelief, unsure of what to think. After regaining himself, he squints in order to see the sight just outside the shop, adjusting his glasses for better precision.
"It is..." he mumbles to no one specific. How ironic, the very man that's been on his mind for all these years is no more than a handful of feet away from him, in a casual setting no less.
Usually he wouldn't have trouble running up to him and demanding some sort of pristine archaeological wonder, but now.
"Layton..."
As if it wasn't enough that he was right there, just a street away, it turns out that he's intended on crossing.
Consequently, he feels his hands trembling.
However, his composure is relegated back to normal levels in short time, it's one of the few times his usual cocky, ulterior demeanor has ever been faltered with.
"Foster! Pumpkin spice!"
Snapping out of his brief trance of staring at the approaching gentleman, he snaps his fingers and heads to the front of the line.
"That's me."
At the same moment, Layton enters the cafe alone on lunch break, hoping to acquire a spot of tea.
He takes his cup of coffee, blows on it a bit to ease the hotness, and heads for the exit.
The two men cross paths as they head in opposite directions. unbeknownst to the other, they share a brief glance.
What follows is a synchronized utterance.
"Hm..."