Just because everything's changing...

[phd_query]

Who?: Doctor James McCrimmon, Hibari Kyouya
When?: Roughly around 3pm.
Where? A cafe in Terra.
Summary?: The world is ending.
Warnings?: Snarky professor meets new person. Run.

Comments

[phd_query]

The professor could certainly type quickly. Tapping away on the antiquated machine in front him, he continued typing with one hand, picking up his drink with the other. He took a sip, and then set it down again. The earl grey tea was the only thing he ever ordered in this place. Everything else was so bloody expensive he didn't want to bother wasting his money on sub-standard food. Away he typed again at full speed.

It was strange. Doctor McCrimmon noticed he had neither slept nor ate for several days, and was not tired, nor was he hungry. Passing it off to some of his medication, his attention turned, finally, towards the new arrival at the cafe. Peculiar. There weren't many people around this time of day. Oh, of course, Christmas break for the schoolchildren and the college students. Probably why this young man was here.

"It's all overpriced," he remarked, leaving the name of the girl he was writing about alone for the moment. Maybe it would come back to him. "Really."

[phd_query]

"Her name was Rosie, that was it!" He turned momentarily to his ancient laptop and tapped away on it. His attention immediately returned to the young man. "And yes, the food here is overpriced. What I'd do is go across the street, to that sandwich shop, pick yourself up a sub. Come back here, order whatever coffee you'd like and enjoy the better view."

Doctor McCrimmon offered something of a small smile to the young man sitting across from him. It wasn't really a friendly expression, though it wasn't unfriendly either.

The appearance of the man was somewhat unusual. A long nose, electrically bright blue eyes, northern British accent. He wore a black, leather coat - obviously somewhat expensive, a dark shirt and a pair of dress slacks. Tapping his long fingers on the edge of the plastic casing to his computer, Doctor McCrimmon took one more glance at the young man.

"Anyway, that's what most people do. Haven't seen you before, so I thought I'd give you a bit of a head's up."

[phd_query]

Eccentric might have been an understatement, but oh well. Doctor McCrimmon hung back in his chair, tipping it back and then settling himself on the floor again. The professor watched as the young man went and spoke to the woman on duty, went back to his writing, watched as he walked back, went back to his writing, took a sip of tea again, tapped his fingers on his laptop. He seemed to be nearly constantly in motion, though his expression was rather serene.

"Fair enough. It's a free city and all. Well," he added with a snort, "Not really. Class separation being one of the largest problems. Did anyone ever think that the idea of IDs being the primary form of rank wouldn't be a problem? I mean really, who came up with this daft idea? People are just people, a number doesn't make them any less or any more human."

[phd_query]

The man thought for a moment, narrowing his bright eyes and looking out to the street, the crowded cafe, the afternoon sun, greyed from winter clouds. A few more words went onto whatever he was writing, and he looked towards the young man. "Survival of the fittest, then? All the system does is breed deadlier and hungrier carnivores. Can't keep them all caged up together. Put them in with the herbivores, and it keeps them governable, complacent. Happy enough to chew on the meat of slow moving herbivores." The professor shrugged his broad, muscular shoulders.

"Then again, what do I know? Just a teacher," he flashed a disarming, white smile, took a sip of his tea. "Just a teacher."

[phd_query]

Oddly, Doctor McCrimmon was more inclined to drink coffee than tea, and when he took tea, it was a rare day. He overbrewed it to the point of repulsive bitterness. Despite the fact that his earl grey was rather weak, he found it unobjectionable as far as tea went. "Yep," he yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth as he stretched out his long limbs and straightened in his chair. "I'm a professor of literature out at the uni. I have a doctorate in astrophysics and a B.S. in mathematics, but that's not really important. I don't teach those, I just study them with far too much fascination."

The laptop was tapped at again, but its tiny fan eventually stopped whirring, and the professor tucked it away in favor for a textbook and a notepad.

"Lesson plans," he explained. "Classes start again on the seventh... or the second. Or sometime in January in the beginning of the month."

[phd_query]

"Yazuka. As in the Japanese mafia?" he raised his eyebrows, his attention torn from the small string of numbers scribbled on the pad of paper. "Interesting." Nothing else was said about Hibari's occupation, however, and he continued writing. "Doctor James McCrimmon. Pleasure to meet you, Kyouya-san," he murmured absently, tapping the pen he was using on the paper.

"I'd ask you what you do, but I don't need to." A faint smirk as he leaned over his plans. "We're both killers, imagine that. I kill ignorance and you kill the ignorant." A sip of tea was taken, and he wrinkled his long nose. "You know, they never make the tea here strong enough. I've gone to a large number of cafes in Terra, and this is the only one that ever gets it remotely close to resembling real tea, but it's still bloody weak. Bollocks."

[phd_query]

"Yes, the tea's well enough I suppose," he replied, switching hands with his pen and continuing to write with the left. "But see, it just doesn't taste right to me. Something's missing. Something I can't really remember." A rueful snort of a laugh followed. 'Then again I always feel like I'm forgetting something. Could be worse I suppose? The world's got big enough problems without one college professor complaining about tea."

The professor followed Hibari's gaze out the window and for a few moments, was wordlessly entranced by the flux of human traffic. His eyes followed the movements of a small blonde woman who wandered by for a moment, and then he began to sketch on his pad of paper, just in the margins. The face of a woman began to appear.

"Not that it's really any of my business," said Doctor McCrimmon in a quieter tone, "But do you ever wonder if people are really bad at heart?"