maskormenacelogs | You are sitting there thinking your thoughts

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You are sitting there thinking your thoughts

WHO: Gazelle and Dr. Wells
WHERE: Harrison's classroom, then the world
WHEN: Friday 7/10, afternoon into evening
WHAT: Gazelle keeps a date
WARNINGS: Moral ambiguity?

[After years in the corporate world and time in military service before that, punctuality is simply second nature. Gazelle slips into the lecture hall two minutes before the start of the final class of the day. Enough time to find a quiet seat towards the back, but not enough for any students that may notice her to move past the sight of her legs and actually progress to trying to speak with her. She wasn't here to hear from the peanut gallery, after all.

When she finally catches sight of the man- her particular kind of sight- a pleased smile forms that stays in place for most of the lecture. When all is said and done, she remains seated, waiting for the students to file out before standing to make her way to the front of the room.]

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The lecture lasts about two hours, typical of the standard summer course at the university, and he doesn't have much time to look out to the crowd of student seated in desks. The back of the hall is elevated only several feet from the ceiling and goes down to the front near his walking space by the electronic board. Today's topic is on the different variations of 'acceleration', expanding on what would be typically known from an introduction physics course. Midway in he's able to spot her in the back, while briefly pausing to allow for questions before moving on, and continues on without visible reaction.

When the class is dismissed there are a couple students who come to the front, asking for a quick rundown of a particular part of the topic or a question that the syllabus straight-forwardly explains. However they come and go within a few minutes and the room is empty, save for him and her.

"I hope you enjoyed the lecture," he speaks as she starts to come down, while closing his laptop and bagging it before slinging the messenger bag over his shoulder. Her legs are obvious to, well, anyone who can see, but he can resist any urge to stare and examine for politeness sake. He can always ask about them later.

"I did."

She waits as he gathers his materials, turning to look at the now empty auditorium before them. University halls were not a home to her, but here, as in so many other aspects of this world, there was a kind of consistency. Entitled children still half paying attention to knowledge laid out before them, ignoring the world living in fear of itself outside. It made falling into old patterns almost too easy.

She smiles over her shoulder as he finishes, waiting until then to start heading for the exit.

"Do you still enjoy giving them?"

"I do," he says simply while putting a notebook into the bag and closing it before walking up and going past her toward the door. Once he gets there he pushes it open and holds it for her to go through. "I've given a few guest lectures before over the years, but there's something rewarding about structuring a long-term lesson plan."

It also has to do with a certain fondness he's developed in the last year of playing mentor to a hero, teaching him how to become faster than imagined and grow into his role. This isn't like that to a 't', but at core it's about teaching for the future. He thinks, at least, the natives will benefit far more from his teachings than the average native world professor.

"What about you, Gazelle? What job did the government thrust upon you?"

"The reason I'll be out of town for a while. I manage a native band. Death metal, if genre matters."

It wasn't a job she'd have ever dreamed of seeing her name attached to, but from her smile there's some kind of an inside joke to it. Death in the airwaves- she really had to wonder just who picked these assignments. Between this and Lucifer in his church, they seemed like the kind of person she'd like to meet.

"Not really a long-term plan."

"Death metal. Don't think I've ever listened to any of that type."

Although he doesn't listen to most music that isn't at least classically based in some manner. He doesn't find the same kind of joy or value in a chorus of meaningful lyrics like others do and he's picky to what he likes even then. Hearing that it's not planned for the long-run doesn't come as surprise, he figures that's how it is for most imPorts when the government doesn't always give out perfect jobs. Surely on purpose.

"What do you think you'd like to do, once you're done with the band? Something administrative perhaps?" He remembers she mentioned being on that side of research. Maybe that's why she got the job of band manager.

"It all matters on the opportunity. I'll stay with the band until a vision I believe in comes along. No point changing one silly task for another."

Raina and her research was the most likely outcome, but it never hurt to take a wide gaze before tossing her lot in. The idealism of Archangel, at least, was safely off the list. Life was too short to waste it trying to rescue a lost cause.

"But have you managed any research since settling in?"

Silly tasks. Just the way she describes it makes a small coy smile come to his face. She doesn't seem to disguise much of who she is. Wish he could say the same, but he has grown accustomed to his veil and the cover he has made.

"I've made contact with a woman, Raina, from the imPort Cellular Research Labs. I'll be meeting her tomorrow to talk about part-time work on the weekend." Gives him something to do and lab work often involves enough long waiting periods for machines to churn out results. "Someone recommended her to me, so I sought her out. Heard of her by any chance?"

He still isn't positive what to think of her, other than how upfront she was about wanting to meet him. There's a certain appreciation for people who don't play around with their wants. It makes things easier to deal with, even if the game can be enjoyable for a time.

"What a coincidence. She's the main opportunity I've been thinking of."

Given Gazelle offered the recommendation, her smile takes a slightly pleased edge. Good. Talented people coming together was the point of it all. And given the number of idealists with no plan other than saying what was right she had seen around? Talent would need collaborators to thrive.

Out of the building and in the open air, Gazelle begins to guide them down the street towards their dinner destination. She had promised some version of a proper kidnapping, after all.

"If you accept, you may not be able to escape a few more nights with me."

He walks side by side with her, flexing the fingers of his right hand as she speaks, and grins thinly. If the impression he's getting off of Raina is a natural one, then the fact that Gazelle is considering employment under her is of only brief surprise.

"Good thing I naturally keep late hours," he chuckles gently to himself, one hand moving to slip his glasses off and the other hand raking through his hair as he does when in thought. "What do you make of her? I've only spoken to her once and she seems well-spoken. Driven too, toward this research she told me about."

He isn't certain if Gazelle will tell him anything at all, but no harm in throwing out the line. Especially if they may end up working together under the same roof.

"Do you really want me to bias your observations, Dr. Wells?"

The tone is light enough, but the fact she's considering working for the woman was really observation enough. At least for a man she'd prefer to actually like the cause as opposed to being charmed into it. There are no handy guarantees available just yet, after all.

He puts his glasses back on and grins, wondering if that's a deflection or just genuine consideration. Either way, he didn't anticipate a clear-cut response and he isn't dissuaded.

"Trust me when I say I'm not easily swayed by opinions," his tone is equally light, spoken casually without much push behind it. "I hardly see the harm, but if that's how you feel."

"I like her. There aren't many people capable of so readily extending their hopes for one world to another."

Gazelle counted herself among those people, making her rather clearly biased. But she wasn't so much ashamed of that fact as it may complicate things if Wells and Raina did not, in fact, hit it off. With her own bias was so well known it might suggest any further her inquiries into his work came with ulterior motives.

"Or with so clear a path towards achieving them."

A 'hope.' One, he thinks, may be connected to her position at the research labs. He would not put himself into a similar category, when his only so-called hope is a very specific one. It has nothing to do with the world and everything to do with himself. While that goal is a simple sounding one, it comes with a large amount of work that must be put into achieving it.

Things will be similar here, he is sure.

"That's good to hear. I'll be frank - I don't like working with people who don't really have clear objectives," he explains with a quirked smile. "Often I find a lot of people with ideas, but no ability to formulate a way to make those ideas real. Sometimes it's not even an idea, but just an ideal."

And an ideal doesn't necessary have to be good. It can be an ill-bred one, but if there is nothing real or concrete to it then what's the point? It's just talk then. Words are easy. True results, now that's not something that can be faked.

"So, thank you for sharing. I hope it goes well, but I guess I'll see for myself how I like her work."

"I'd like to know your impressions after the face, if you wouldn't mind."

She punctuates the request by opening the door to a bistro, almost invisible in its spot nestled in between two much larger businesses. She holds it open, expression neutral as she waits for him to enter or veto the proposed location. She hadn't exactly checked out his preferences before taking charge, after all.

"But for now, the rest of the evening."

"I'll let you know," he says before entering the bistro, giving it a scan around with a polite smile. It's nice, but not overly lavish and that suits him fine. He turns his head over to her with a nod. "Until then - the evening. I hope they serve coffee here."

The host ushers them to a table near the end of the bistro and hands them both a menu, along with a small drink menu. He opens his and glances at it half-interested, eyes darting up to Gazelle. "So, if you don't mind me inquiring, I'd like to know more about you. Such as what causes you worked for back in your world."

She mentioned it before - how she was searching for a task to devote herself to, rather than go from one thing to the next. What was she searching for exactly?

"Technology, primarily. My employer believed in global progress. Our last big project was free unlimited communication. Data, texting."

She waved her hand slightly, suggesting it encompassed everything else a phone plan possible could. Like the ability to tap into the aggression center of the brain of anyone in transmission range (so everyone) and induce a global holocaust. That kind of thing.

"But the 'super' world presents a whole new set of problems."

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