2025-11-10: Again and Again and Again
- Cutscene: Again and Again and Again
- Cast: Isabeau Fontaine
- Where: Shinjuku Tennis Courts
- OOC Date: 2025-11-10
- IC Date: Wed, Aug 08 2012
- Summary: Isabeau stubbornly practices her tennis moves, despite no one joining her... until a kindly adult offers to play.
Again.
The ball machine Isabeau uses to serve automatically to her is quite fancy; adjusted by remote, it can throw more or less balls per minute, at varying spins and angles. She has it set to its most challenging settings, of course. In the muggy Summer heat, she's sweating up a storm in her blouse and jean shorts, but no one's here to complain. The club had better things to do again.
Fine! She'll just do it on her own. Again!
She strikes at the next ball that comes, lashing it over the net. Rarely does she miss one, though she's been out here since the morning. Olympians practice for up to eight hours a day; if she wants to be the best, she needs to be willing to do at least that much. Why won't her club mates join her? They have time! They don't need to go on dates or -- whatever!
AGAIN!
Isabeau is breathing heavily by the time the bag of tennis balls in the machine is exhausted; her breaks consist of going around, collecting all those balls, and putting them right back in for another round. Another tennis player -- an adult -- has already finished with her bouts; and noticing the way Isabeau was here when she started, with no signs of stopping, she steps over into her court with a couple of bottles of water.
"Here," she says, offering one out. "It looks like you could use this."
"Thank you," Isabeau replies, politely, as she draws the draw-string on her bag of tennis balls -- they've escaped from her before -- and accepts the drink. (She can be polite to adults, she's hardly going to be able to compete with them.)
"Did your friends go home already?" The woman asks -- a reasonable assumption, it is past lunch now.
"Those lazy clubmates never showed up," Isabeau grouses. "I do not need them! I will put the time in!"
"You've been here a while, though... how much time are you even thinking?" Her fellow tennisite asks, tilting her head.
"Olympians practice for eight hours a day," Isabeau huffs.
"Then... are you hoping to go to the Olympics?" The woman asks.
"Well... no, but... I should at least be willing to put that much effort in!" Isabeau insists. "If I want to be the best, that takes effort! Dedication! They just don't get that!"
"Hmm..." The tennis player wonders, tilting her head. "Why don't we play a match? My name's Otobe," she extends a hand out. "Teina Otobe."
"Otobe..." Isabeau repeats the name, as she shakes her hand. "All right. I am Isabeau Fontaine."
"Fontaine-san," Teina confirms, with a nod. "C'mon, grab a ball. You can set!"
And for a while, it seems like Isabeau is even winning -- until Teina begins doing things no machine could think to do. Even tricks Isabeau uses, like striking the ball softly so it barely pads over the net, then deeply into the depths of the court; when human psychology enters the game, Isabeau's performance starts flagging.
She doesn't complain about it, of course. It's rude to make noise during a tennis match, so she wouldn't do that with an adult. She doesn't even complain about the points she ought to be able to do over...
... though, when the match ends, Teina comes up to the net with a curious expression. "You definitely could have called a 'let', back there," she points out, referring to the ancient tennis art of declaring a do-over. "Why didn't you?"
"My teammates always messing up," Isabeau scowls. "They always call lets. If you play through 'lets' and lose because of this, you will learn not to mess up next time!"
"But grace is part of the game," Teina points out, kindly. "Mm... I wonder if you're the kind of person who's very hard on herself."
"I am disciplined," Isabeau sniffs, haughtily. "I will put the work in."
"Is that so?" Teina tilts her head. "It just seems like you'd have more fun with your friends..."
"I do not need them," Isabeau sulks, before she at least remembers to add: "... thank you for the game, anyway."
"Anytime," Teina assures her. "You take care, Fontaine-san."
"Goodbye, Otobe."
As she walks away, Isabeau loads her tennis balls back into her machine.
Again.