So It Begins [OTA]

[heliacalrising]

Sirrus sat at the corner table in the cafe.  He faced outward so as to watch the crowd if he so chose, but he was preoccupied at the moment.  His journal was open, his hand flying across the page so fast it was a wonder he was writing anything coherent.  His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows to avoid the ink that always seemed to get in the most

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[celeryboy]

Not much time passed before a man bustled (he seemed the high-energy sort, incapable of doing much else but bustle) into the cafe, ostensibly to fetch a cup of tea and a moment alone before returning to what may be called in certain circles: "work". The sketches in that book drew his attention, however, and he stopped at the table to admire the work.

"Oh, I say," he murmured, resoundingly impressed. "That is excellent draughtsmanship. Is that...?" He squinted a moment, then took the time to put on a pair of wire-framed glasses before getting his nose closer to the page. "That's a schematic for the station, isn't it?"

[heliacalrising]

"Yes, those are the station schematics," Sirrus replied, slightly irritated that his solitude has been interrupted, though pleased that his work was admired. "Floors, maintenance shafts, air vents, heating and cooling systems, every shop, stall, tavern, and cafe - all here, accurate to within a half a foot of the actual position."

He glanced at the strange plant-wearing man over the rim of his glass. "Did you need something?"

[celeryboy]

"The entirety of the station marked and mapped. Rather impressive, if I do say so myself." And, of course, he did. His shoulders leveled and he grasped his hands behind his back, perhaps in an effort not to pilfer that book without permission from its owner.

But what he wouldn't give for a few hours with it, coupled with the TARDIS scans of the station levels...

"Yes," he said matter-of-factly. "Answers, which seem to be in short supply in Zion 8, but I've not given up the attempt to search those out. I'm the Doctor." He punctuated the introduction with a stretched-out hand.

[heliacalrising]

"Sirrus, Director of Research," Sirrus shook The Doctor's hand, noting how his eyes were not really on him but his journal. He had to watch him. "You must be the incarnation that the other Doctor was speaking of. I see you share his... eccentricity." He nodded to the vegetable pinned to his jacket.

[celeryboy]

"'Eccentricity'?" His eyebrow raised just a tad at that. What eccentricity was Sirrus speaking of? "What you may call 'eccentricity' I call 'practicality'," he added, defensively.

"Yes, the...other incarnation. An earlier version that the Doctor you must've already met. We try not to get in each other's way, you understand. But 'Director of Research,' that is outstanding. So is plotting out the station a major part of your duties, Sirrus?"

[heliacalrising]

"There are already several versions of the station maps available on the computer system," he explained, picking up his pen to resume writing. "I just prefer to have my own copies."

Sirrus did not say anything more. He was hoping that if he pointedly ignored the Doctor the man might leave him in peace.

[celeryboy]

An uncomfortable silence settled between the pair, with the Doctor attempting to break it by clearing his throat and then pocketing his glasses.

"And quite interesting copies they are, at that," he said. "I don't suppose you'd mind if I...?" He settled in the chair opposite Sirrus. "The schematics available in the computer systems are rather inadequate. I've attempted to institute a thorough examination of the station with my ship, but there are places she can't quite discern. Having other points of reference would make for a more exhaustive layout, don't you think?"

"Are you a map-maker by trade?"

[heliacalrising]

Sirrus did in fact mind. Could he not even work in peace? Granted, he was in a cafe, but he didn't expect to be bothered.

"I don't suppose anything I say will get you to leave at this point," Sirrus muttered, stacking his maps in a neat pile on the edge of the table, having no intention of giving them to the Doctor He looked back at the man, resting laced hands on the table.

"I have many talents, cartography being one of them. I have no specific trade. I prefer to keep my options... open."

[celeryboy]

"You'd be surprised how many people have told me that," he said, grinning apologetically. And he did note how Sirrus kept those maps at his side of the table, tantalizingly out of reach of casual perusal.

Not a man prone to sharing. Pity. The Doctor watched any chance he had of examining those maps slip through his grasp.

"As do I. A man can never have too many interests, I've found." Though those interests varied, particularly for Time lords with a few regenerations under their belts. "I do hope the station offers amusement enough for a Renaissance man such as yourself."

[heliacalrising]

Sirrus absentmindedly trailed his finger around the rim of his now empty glass. "Amusements enough, but no purpose. I could spend all day researching the known universe, but to what end?"

He slightly increased pressure on the glass, producing a clear note that reminded him of the crystal instrument he created during his imprisonment. "A purpose provides focus and focus provides results, and I have never been without purpose."

[celeryboy]

"Must all endeavors have purpose other than amusement?" It was quite the serious question, something he'd pondered over the course of his incarnations, and he'd always stumbled upon the same answer. "I'd be wary of a man so driven that he'd forgo leisure for other pursuits."

And then, a self-deprecating grin framed his face. "But what do I know of purpose? There's much to admire in the creation of a book. I used to keep a diary, myself, but then I'd never had enough time to keep it up-to-date."

Also, a five-hundred year diary wasn't nearly enough, he'd found.

[heliacalrising]

"Endeavors that are only for amusement are quite worthless. If there is no reason for doing it, then why do it? Everything one does must further some purpose."

Sirrus' eye twitched at the word 'diary.' "This is not a diary, it is merely my personal journal," he muttered. "My sister kept a diary, I do not."

[celeryboy]

"Ah," he said, with a slight withered look at Sirrus. "I see who I won't be inviting to my next scheduled cricket match. You've not set foot in the virtual arena yet, I take it?" For if there were a more frivolous waste of time available on the station, he'd not discovered it, yet.

Still, he was only working at the blasted place because of the cricket.

"There's a difference? I'd assumed the terms interchangeable?"

[heliacalrising]

"I have not had the time. I have been busy with work and... other projects. What, exactly, is this 'cricket'?"

He paused in his writing. "A diary is what little girls write down their frivolous thoughts. A journal is what men of science use to record their musings."

[celeryboy]

"Oh, nothing really special. Simply a sport involving a bat, ball, stumps, and bails and a lot of running about. Rather fun, if one has the right mindset. Some who know me have claimed I'm a bit obsessed with it. Complete rubbish, of course." Which didn't entirely explain why he was normally dressed in a replica of an English cricketer's uniform.

He nodded primly, taking in the explanation with all the seriousness he could muster. "Ah, I see. Have you written many journals, then?" he asked, sincerely curious.

[heliacalrising]

"Ah... sports," Sirrus muttered, "I was never much good at them. That was more my brother's forte. I didn't understand the point of running around chasing a ball for fun. If I must do something in my leisure time, what little of it I have, I prefer more intellectual pursuits. Chess, mostly. The playing of music. Both of which have a purpose besides mere entertainment."

He gestured to the barmaid to bring him another glass of wine. "I've written several journals," he said to the Doctor. "Details of my experiments, mostly. One needs a place to keep their thoughts intact, lest they be forgotten in the morning."