(Untitled)

[hatchingviper]

There is a weedy, blond, arrogant sci--hold it, no, no there isn't. Keep looking. Keep

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[weirdwilbur]

A very tall man looks curiously over his own book, a sinister-looking old tome.

"What are yew readin' thar?" he asks.

[hatchingviper]

Deitmar looks up.

Also, up a bit more. See: very tall.

"Function of cellular biology as it's not understood in my time," he says honestly. "Yourself?"

[weirdwilbur]

"De Vermis Mysteriis, by Ludwig Prinn."

[hatchingviper]

"I don't think I've heard of it," says Deitmar. "Which mysteries about worms?"

(Oh, Deitmar. You scientist.)

[subject_lj_here]

This is a familiar face. Perhaps he can distract her from this horrible monthy "gift"?

"Hello, there, Deitmar. What are you reading?" She peers curiously.

[hatchingviper]

Yes, please ask him about that; perhaps we can get him to hit the ceiling!

"Cellular biology," he says, a trace abruptly, and then focusses on her face. "Oh. Hello, again."

[subject_lj_here]

"Oh, really? Is it the same type we talked about last time? Your virology?"

For the record, Chell also has a Biology book in hand. But she will lie furiously about what topic she was reading.

She pauses. "Would you like anything?"

[hatchingviper]

"Something like that," says Deitmar. "I'm rewarding a friend's curiosity."

Yes, he is feeding William Birkin knowledge from about fifty years ahead in the timeline. He was strictly not doing that when he first got here, but then he finally put boots on and jumped up and down on continuity. Whee!

"I'm content," he says. "What new things have you tried?"

That's got to be worth a bit of conversational mileage.