[ This whole notion of talking to 'himself' was a lot easier in theory than in practice. Jefferson could turn the video feature on and speak without hesitation at first, but once he sees TJ on the other end, it's as if he's looking in a mirror with a mind of its own. Almost, anyway. Though they're practically the same age, and even have very similar hairstyles (unlike Curtis and his doppelganger), there are enough differences in their respective demeanors that Jefferson can look at TJ and know that he's not actually the same as him.
Where TJ's a little shy, Jefferson's gaze is more... intense. ]
Hi. [ He sounds a little more uncertain now that the strangeness of this is starting to sink in more. Luckily, with TJ moving to the piano, Jefferson has something else to focus his attention on. It's funny, he had one back in Storybrooke, himself. He'd play it sometimes, though he never learned how to, really. The 'other' Jefferson did, however, and if he cleared his head and surrendered to that fabricated set of memories, he could, too. He didn't even know the names of the pieces or the composers, and he could never keep it up once conscious thoughts crept into his mind again. It wasn't something he'd do often, because he'd been so desperate to keep himself-- his true self-- as separate as possible from the intruder Regina put in his head with her curse. Giving in would only blur the lines.
Given that, it's at once fascinating and disturbing for him to watch TJ play. ]
It's... [ He blinks. ] You taught yourself that as a child? I'd say that's impressive.
no worries! I'm absurdly slow rn myself
Where TJ's a little shy, Jefferson's gaze is more... intense. ]
Hi. [ He sounds a little more uncertain now that the strangeness of this is starting to sink in more. Luckily, with TJ moving to the piano, Jefferson has something else to focus his attention on. It's funny, he had one back in Storybrooke, himself. He'd play it sometimes, though he never learned how to, really. The 'other' Jefferson did, however, and if he cleared his head and surrendered to that fabricated set of memories, he could, too. He didn't even know the names of the pieces or the composers, and he could never keep it up once conscious thoughts crept into his mind again. It wasn't something he'd do often, because he'd been so desperate to keep himself-- his true self-- as separate as possible from the intruder Regina put in his head with her curse. Giving in would only blur the lines.
Given that, it's at once fascinating and disturbing for him to watch TJ play. ]
It's... [ He blinks. ] You taught yourself that as a child? I'd say that's impressive.