Layton-MSN Excerpt, Tumblr Overflow
A Rough Excerpt from "Professor Layton and the Angel's Potion," a Layton-MSN storyarc
Without turning from his monitor, Robert spoke. "Well now, you've made me curious; I have to ask: if this cure wasn't going to save him, would you stop it?"
The silence burned, the anger plain on Emmy's face. Janice sat beside her, her hands folded in her lap, her brow creased with confusion at the question.
"...If he didn't have the curse at all, or... if it was going to k-... kill him?" She choked on the last words.
"Sure, what if he didn't have it?"
"If he didn't? W-w... well," Janice stammered. The suddenly sprung conversation caught the Professor's attention, as he turned to observe. "...If he didn't have the curse, this is sort of a chicken or the egg question; there would be no curse to cure."
"...I didn't say there was no curse." His typing didn't slow - his tone was curt; matter of fact. Janice's eyes narrowed, and Emmy lashed out from her seat.
"So why not just make a cure and kill the curse for good? It just doesn't make sense!" Emmy shouted, pounding her fists on her knees.
"If there's anybody with the curse, it wouldn't be right not to look for a cure," Janice spoke in a controlled tone as well as she could, but the acid seeped through.
"My thoughts exactly." He replied, in a still very frank tone, typing away.
The trio, Layton included, all allowed the frustration with Robert's replies to paint their features. There was a short pause, nobody spoke but Emmy.
"You didn't answer my question," She frowned, glowering at the back of the scientist's head. "Why recreate the curse?"
"Ask the... 'Professor'," Robert replied frankly again, twisting the the Professor's former title with a mocking twang. Janice immediately fell into confusion, not understanding the implications of the slam. The Professor only narrowed his glare at the scientist - Emmy turned from an angry growl at the man to looking up at Layton, confused as well.
Robert, nor anybody else in the room, said a word through the tension, until Emmy broke the silence.
"Professor, what is he talking about?" She demanded. Janice followed Emmy's question to the Professor, still knitting her eyebrows with confusion.
"...I-I'm not sure."
Emmy turned back around to Robert, looking at him, waiting for him to explain what Layton couldn't, or wouldn't.
"...Oh, come on. I'm just a well-paid babysitter; you're the brains of the outfit, you must have some clue."
"What?" Emmy said plainly, not following. Suddenly, Robert spun in his chair, leaning his elbows to his knees and supporting his head in his hands. His gaze was fixed on Layton. Emmy and Janice both followed the gaze, brows cocked in confusion. The assistant prodded again, quietly. "...Professor?"
"..."
Robert just smiled, smugly at the three, the silence in the air between them thick.
"Professor, what's going on?" Emmy stressed, her eyes fixed on Layton.
"Why recreate the curse? Because... they want to use it as a weapon."
"A weapon--!"
"!!-- That's..."
The girls both flinched at once, Emmy sitting up straight in her seat, shocked; Janice sinking back into her chair, settling into a glare at Robert.
"Heh. And I here I was, beginning to doubt you." The scientist turned, resuming his typing like he hadn't stopped.
"...I'm not going to allow any further tests if this is what they're for," The Professor said, his tone very terse, very final. Robert waved off his seriousness.
"Trust me, your tests are just for the cure," he said. "Besides, it's not like your permission is necessary."
The jab earned another long, frustrated silence.
"Oh cheer up, these tests will save the lives of fifty people, at least."
"F-fift-...!" Janice stammered, lifting out of her seat, her tone indignant.
"And just how many people do you intend on killing?!" Emmy shot up from her chair.
"I don't want to kill anybody," The same steady, calculating voice; he didn't look away from the monitors. Emmy took her seat, albeit completely disgusted with the answer. "I hope we don't have to use it."
"They will use it," The Professor growled, "You know that."
"Only if they need to,"
"Need?" He repeated, stressed it; Emmy and Janice sat with him, both echoing the sentiment clearly on their faces. "Why would they need to...?"
"...Ever watch the news, Layton?" Robert replied. Janice's fists unballed in her lap at the jarring, to her, subject change. For the Professor, however, the change was more than relevant.
"I've tried not to, recently," He stated, tightlipped. Robert kept typing.
"It's good to have something in your back pocket, just in case," He mused, chipping away at the computer keys, launching into a monologue. The Professor stayed in his seat, just watching the man speak.
"The world can be a cruel, scary place; I mean, there are psychos out there who are willing to torture and kill a man for a broken heart, can you imagine?" He said, in a lighthearted, mock-conversational tone, all the while not breaking his transfixed stare at the computer screen; the rythmic tapping of the keys didn't stop.
Layton convulsed at the mere mention of the incident, shooting into a uncharacteristically angry glare; Emmy shot up again, her face twisted. "You're MAD! All of you!" She shouted, more of a growl than a declaration.
"I'm mad?" The clinking keys staying in the same rythym; he didn't look up. "I'm trying to save lives and find a cure -- and by the way: I've never committed murder."
Emmy and the Professor stood, tensely, the thick silence crowding around them again.
"...Professor," Janice piped in, meek voice, her eyebrows knit together in absolute befuddlement. "...What is he talking about?"
"N-nothing." Layton spoke, the word ending with a terse snap. Emmy fell silent, and the silence became suffocating.
Robert broke it, in a suprised, honestly suprised voice. "...Did you not tell Janice?
"But-..." She turned with a confused look to Robert, and then back to the Professor. She scrunched the fabric of her dress in her fist. "...Not tell me what?"
Robert was quiet for mere moments, and then broke out into a chuckle. "Oh wow, this'll be an awkward conversation. I promise I won't interrupt." He delegated himself to his typing, chuckling once more to himself, inviting one last indignant pout from Janice.
"Janice..." Emmy started, drawing the other girl's attention, as she shifted her eyes from her to the Professor. They both looked to the floor, as Emmy waited for the Professor to pick up the story. "..."
He didn't, and the silence flared again.
"...Is this," the redhead spoke, finally, her voice coming out raw. She looked down at her lap, twisting her dress in her hands. "What C-Charlotte was panicking about? At the restaurant?"
Robert hacked away at his keyboard, keeping his word and keeping mum; the images and text flew by too fast for any normal person to read. The Professor's reply came several minutes later, hesitant and forced.
"...Y-yes."
"...Then when she started shouting 'Assassin, assassin,'... she... she mea-" She choked on the word, and looked up at Layton, no real emotion plain on her face.
Again, the reply came delayed; one terse nod all he could muster. Janice's face drained of color, her eyes wildly darting between the two of them.
"B-Bill Hawks--... That's the name Charlotte said--... You," She spluttered on with no mind guiding her thoughts, speaking in circles, waiting for somebody to interrupt her.
Nobody did.
"...Y-... you..." Her eyes changed, as she searched Layton's face, her eyes screaming 'please finish this sentence and say "you didn't".'
Layton stood wordlessly. Emmy stood next to him, with only one word more to say. "J-Janice..."
"...Wh-... who was it," She blurted out, unthinking; it more of a statement than a question. The name was on the edge of her mind, it was important. "Why is that name familiar."
"He's-... was the... Prime Minister," Layton choked out, his voice awkward and strained. He watched her for a reaction, not expecting what he was hoping for.
"...Oh." She replied almost immediately, disaffected, until what he had said sank all the way in. "...O-...Oh. Oh. Oh! Y-you... you!" Her voice shot up an octave as her eyes shot open.
"..."
"..." Neither of them could say a word. She sat, blinking wide eyed at the Professor, completely thrown at the confession. All she could do was stare. He pulled his hat down, not able to look at her directly. His shame was tangible. "I'm sorry..."
"Not the man you thought he was, was he?" Robert interjected finally, speaking quietly. "Don't worry. He left me disappointed, too."
Without turning from his monitor, Robert spoke. "Well now, you've made me curious; I have to ask: if this cure wasn't going to save him, would you stop it?"
The silence burned, the anger plain on Emmy's face. Janice sat beside her, her hands folded in her lap, her brow creased with confusion at the question.
"...If he didn't have the curse at all, or... if it was going to k-... kill him?" She choked on the last words.
"Sure, what if he didn't have it?"
"If he didn't? W-w... well," Janice stammered. The suddenly sprung conversation caught the Professor's attention, as he turned to observe. "...If he didn't have the curse, this is sort of a chicken or the egg question; there would be no curse to cure."
"...I didn't say there was no curse." His typing didn't slow - his tone was curt; matter of fact. Janice's eyes narrowed, and Emmy lashed out from her seat.
"So why not just make a cure and kill the curse for good? It just doesn't make sense!" Emmy shouted, pounding her fists on her knees.
"If there's anybody with the curse, it wouldn't be right not to look for a cure," Janice spoke in a controlled tone as well as she could, but the acid seeped through.
"My thoughts exactly." He replied, in a still very frank tone, typing away.
The trio, Layton included, all allowed the frustration with Robert's replies to paint their features. There was a short pause, nobody spoke but Emmy.
"You didn't answer my question," She frowned, glowering at the back of the scientist's head. "Why recreate the curse?"
"Ask the... 'Professor'," Robert replied frankly again, twisting the the Professor's former title with a mocking twang. Janice immediately fell into confusion, not understanding the implications of the slam. The Professor only narrowed his glare at the scientist - Emmy turned from an angry growl at the man to looking up at Layton, confused as well.
Robert, nor anybody else in the room, said a word through the tension, until Emmy broke the silence.
"Professor, what is he talking about?" She demanded. Janice followed Emmy's question to the Professor, still knitting her eyebrows with confusion.
"...I-I'm not sure."
Emmy turned back around to Robert, looking at him, waiting for him to explain what Layton couldn't, or wouldn't.
"...Oh, come on. I'm just a well-paid babysitter; you're the brains of the outfit, you must have some clue."
"What?" Emmy said plainly, not following. Suddenly, Robert spun in his chair, leaning his elbows to his knees and supporting his head in his hands. His gaze was fixed on Layton. Emmy and Janice both followed the gaze, brows cocked in confusion. The assistant prodded again, quietly. "...Professor?"
"..."
Robert just smiled, smugly at the three, the silence in the air between them thick.
"Professor, what's going on?" Emmy stressed, her eyes fixed on Layton.
"Why recreate the curse? Because... they want to use it as a weapon."
"A weapon--!"
"!!-- That's..."
The girls both flinched at once, Emmy sitting up straight in her seat, shocked; Janice sinking back into her chair, settling into a glare at Robert.
"Heh. And I here I was, beginning to doubt you." The scientist turned, resuming his typing like he hadn't stopped.
"...I'm not going to allow any further tests if this is what they're for," The Professor said, his tone very terse, very final. Robert waved off his seriousness.
"Trust me, your tests are just for the cure," he said. "Besides, it's not like your permission is necessary."
The jab earned another long, frustrated silence.
"Oh cheer up, these tests will save the lives of fifty people, at least."
"F-fift-...!" Janice stammered, lifting out of her seat, her tone indignant.
"And just how many people do you intend on killing?!" Emmy shot up from her chair.
"I don't want to kill anybody," The same steady, calculating voice; he didn't look away from the monitors. Emmy took her seat, albeit completely disgusted with the answer. "I hope we don't have to use it."
"They will use it," The Professor growled, "You know that."
"Only if they need to,"
"Need?" He repeated, stressed it; Emmy and Janice sat with him, both echoing the sentiment clearly on their faces. "Why would they need to...?"
"...Ever watch the news, Layton?" Robert replied. Janice's fists unballed in her lap at the jarring, to her, subject change. For the Professor, however, the change was more than relevant.
"I've tried not to, recently," He stated, tightlipped. Robert kept typing.
"It's good to have something in your back pocket, just in case," He mused, chipping away at the computer keys, launching into a monologue. The Professor stayed in his seat, just watching the man speak.
"The world can be a cruel, scary place; I mean, there are psychos out there who are willing to torture and kill a man for a broken heart, can you imagine?" He said, in a lighthearted, mock-conversational tone, all the while not breaking his transfixed stare at the computer screen; the rythmic tapping of the keys didn't stop.
Layton convulsed at the mere mention of the incident, shooting into a uncharacteristically angry glare; Emmy shot up again, her face twisted. "You're MAD! All of you!" She shouted, more of a growl than a declaration.
"I'm mad?" The clinking keys staying in the same rythym; he didn't look up. "I'm trying to save lives and find a cure -- and by the way: I've never committed murder."
Emmy and the Professor stood, tensely, the thick silence crowding around them again.
"...Professor," Janice piped in, meek voice, her eyebrows knit together in absolute befuddlement. "...What is he talking about?"
"N-nothing." Layton spoke, the word ending with a terse snap. Emmy fell silent, and the silence became suffocating.
Robert broke it, in a suprised, honestly suprised voice. "...Did you not tell Janice?
"But-..." She turned with a confused look to Robert, and then back to the Professor. She scrunched the fabric of her dress in her fist. "...Not tell me what?"
Robert was quiet for mere moments, and then broke out into a chuckle. "Oh wow, this'll be an awkward conversation. I promise I won't interrupt." He delegated himself to his typing, chuckling once more to himself, inviting one last indignant pout from Janice.
"Janice..." Emmy started, drawing the other girl's attention, as she shifted her eyes from her to the Professor. They both looked to the floor, as Emmy waited for the Professor to pick up the story. "..."
He didn't, and the silence flared again.
"...Is this," the redhead spoke, finally, her voice coming out raw. She looked down at her lap, twisting her dress in her hands. "What C-Charlotte was panicking about? At the restaurant?"
Robert hacked away at his keyboard, keeping his word and keeping mum; the images and text flew by too fast for any normal person to read. The Professor's reply came several minutes later, hesitant and forced.
"...Y-yes."
"...Then when she started shouting 'Assassin, assassin,'... she... she mea-" She choked on the word, and looked up at Layton, no real emotion plain on her face.
Again, the reply came delayed; one terse nod all he could muster. Janice's face drained of color, her eyes wildly darting between the two of them.
"B-Bill Hawks--... That's the name Charlotte said--... You," She spluttered on with no mind guiding her thoughts, speaking in circles, waiting for somebody to interrupt her.
Nobody did.
"...Y-... you..." Her eyes changed, as she searched Layton's face, her eyes screaming 'please finish this sentence and say "you didn't".'
Layton stood wordlessly. Emmy stood next to him, with only one word more to say. "J-Janice..."
"...Wh-... who was it," She blurted out, unthinking; it more of a statement than a question. The name was on the edge of her mind, it was important. "Why is that name familiar."
"He's-... was the... Prime Minister," Layton choked out, his voice awkward and strained. He watched her for a reaction, not expecting what he was hoping for.
"...Oh." She replied almost immediately, disaffected, until what he had said sank all the way in. "...O-...Oh. Oh. Oh! Y-you... you!" Her voice shot up an octave as her eyes shot open.
"..."
"..." Neither of them could say a word. She sat, blinking wide eyed at the Professor, completely thrown at the confession. All she could do was stare. He pulled his hat down, not able to look at her directly. His shame was tangible. "I'm sorry..."
"Not the man you thought he was, was he?" Robert interjected finally, speaking quietly. "Don't worry. He left me disappointed, too."