Decode (Sebby, Casual)

[VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN]

the truth is hiding in your eyes
and it's hanging on your tongue
just boiling in my blood
but you think that I can't see

Victor had, after a year, discovered NYU. He'd been afraid of it at first - universities in general. But through his successively improving state of mind, he was realizing what a fantastic research asset it was. Perhaps he had no real business being there, but Victor didn't know if they kicked non-students off campuses. How were they to know, anyways? There were all sorts, here.

He liked to spend time in the library. He'd poked around in the chemists' labs this morning. No one had caught him, that would have been terrifying. Sometimes he missed his lab back in Ingolstadt, it had served him well. Served him, until... no, he mustn't think about It. That ruined memories, after all.

He'd gone through several texts already this morning - mostly on alchemy. The last few months had seen a reverse in his interests; he'd gone back to that ancient science his father had laughed at him for looking into. It was wasting time, he said. Perhaps that's why he became interested in the first place. The childlike, subconscious need to do the opposite of what the father wants. Freudian theories, was all, but Freud was nothing little himself.

With a pile of books now in hand composed to chemistry, alchemy, and psychoanalysis (and, for some reason, a volume of Grim's fairy tales), Victor wandered around the library, looking for a place to sit down and look through all of them. Ah - there was a nice spot by a few windows, a slightly sectioned area with a few comfy looking chairs and only one other man sitting there.

Victor tripped. The fell around him and he landed on his knees. He looked around for a moment at the mess, shrugged, and flopped onto his back. Maybe he didn't feel like reading. Maybe this was just a thinking day. He looked contentedly at the fan on the ceiling and folded his hands over his stomach. A very nice think indeed.

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[SEBASTIAN TIMOTHY MARTIN]

Unlike most professors he knew, Sebastian didn't like to grade papers in his office. He much preferred to be surrounded by something that was comforting, and books were just that thing. He had been spending the better part of the morning grading those papers in the NYU library, and anyone who walked past him merely shook their heads and chuckled at his predictability. Truly though, Seb needed something stable in his life.

Though after the first twenty or so papers, his mind started wandering, and his eyes began to stray to the books lining the shelves around him. Every now and again he would go back to the paper he was reading, but after a while he realized he'd reread the same sentence four times. He sighed, forcing himself to focus on the page, but there was a book over there that was capturing his attention. He couldn't read the title, but the cover looked so enchanting...

He started to get up, just to see what the book was, when suddenly he saw someone come into the little alcove he'd claimed as his own. Sebastian was a little annoyed, but then he wondered if he should help the man carry all those books... Funny, he seemed a bit familiar.

Seb looked back to the book he'd found interesting, but when the man came in he'd lost his place in the bookshelf where it was. He sighed, going back to the papers again.

Suddenly he heard a loud thump, and he nearly jumped out of his seat from the sound. He looked down to see pages of books fluttering as they came to a rest on the floor, some open and others closed. The action seemed almost deliberate as the man laid down right on top of some of the books and stared at the ceiling, never even bothering to pick on up a book, if that was indeed his preferred position to read.

Sebastian raised his eyebrows, setting down his pen slowly on the table and leaning forward. Cautiously, he offered a soft, concerned, "Excuse me sir, but are you alright?"

[VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN]

"Excuse me sir, but are you alright?"

Victor looked up at the man. It was the one who had been sitting before. A teacher, if his neatness meant anything. There were thick glasses slipping on his nose, almost too big on his face. His hair was a little floppy; like sand dunes shifting. He looked sweet.

He realized after a moment that he was staring and had not answered. That was rude. The teacher was expressing worry; Victor had to assure him. He sat up, gave him a toothy smile. "Oh yes, quite alright,"

[/b] Victor said agreeably. Reciprocate. "And you? Are you alright?"[/b][/blockquote][/font]

[SEBASTIAN TIMOTHY MARTIN]

Sebastian was a little confused as to this man's behavior. It was only then that he questioned what he was doing here. Was he a student...? If he was faculty he'd never seen him before... But Seb got the feeling he wasn't supposed to even be there at all.

The man's grin and his cheeriness scared him a little, so he raised one eyebrow in response to his question. "I'm... alright, yes..." Sebastian laced his hands together and rested them on his knee, expecting he might just have a conversation with this man. It wasn't every day you engaged in conversation with a man who'd been not moments before laying on the floor surrounded by books as if he was in his own bed. Maybe he was his kind of guy, in fact...

"What exactly are you doing on the floor, if I may ask?" he said, leaning against the armrest on his elbow while keeping his hands together, his hair falling in front of his eyes. He pushed his glasses up his nose by his shoulder, too lazy to undo his hands at the moment.

[VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN]

"I'm... alright, yes..." the man said slowly, looking a bit confused. Maybe a bit put off. Victor hadn't meant that. But then, the man also seemed a little interesting, and this thought was proven correct when Victor was asked, "What exactly are you doing on the floor, if I may ask?" His hair fell in front of his face, his glasses moved forward by gravity - too big indeed - and Victor giggled when they were pushed back up his nose with a shoulder only.

"Of course you may ask,"

[/b] Victor said cheerfully, sitting a little straighter. Wait - he knew this term, it meant the person was actually asking, just didn't want to be direct. "I'm sitting on the floor, because I fell over, because... Oh, I suppose my boot's untied."[/b] Victor laughed at himself and pushed his leg out from under him to begin trying his lace.

"And you're..." Victor stretched his neck to look up at the table the man sat at. "Grading papers? So you are a teacher. Ah, j'avais raison. Bon travail."[/b] He congratulated himself, saying so in French because it was rude to commend oneself in public. He was rather unaware that switching to another language made others feel a bit stupid and used, though. "What do you teach?"[/b][/blockquote][/font]

[SEBASTIAN TIMOTHY MARTIN]

Aside from the fact that he thought he heard the man giggle, Sebastian was beginning to feel more comfortable around the man. He had to stifle laughter when he said the reason he fell over was because his shoe was untied. Laughter did almost escape when the man craned his neck to see what was on the table, but he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to stop it.

He had to raise his eyebrow at the man's satisfaction at having figured out his profession. It wasn't hard to guess what someone was in NYU; it was either a teacher, or a student... That was of course unless this man was neither, which was beginning to seem more likely.

Seb nodded slowly. "Yes... You were right. I teach English." He leaned his chin against his knuckles, his elbow supporting him. "What about you, then? I've never seen you before. Are you a transfer student?" Of course it was to see if he faltered in his answering. If he wasn't a student or a teacher, then by all accounts Sebastian should report him... Though he wasn't sure he would.

[VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN]

The man's worried expression had grown into a more amused one. "Yes... You were right. I teach English," he said. Oh, good! Victor thought. Fantastic. He liked English teachers, they were agreeable people for the most part.

"What about you, then? I've never seen you before. Are you a transfer student?"

"Hmm?" Victor looked up from his messily tied bootlace. "Oh, no, I'm not. I was a student, but not a transfer one - I don't think I've ever seen you before now, either."

Oh, he ought to introduce himself, Victor remembered. That's what you did when you met new people. "My name's Victor Frankenstein nice to meet you. And your name's... Sebastian Martin?" Victor read off his teachers' tag. "That's a nice name. It has a bing." He meant ring, really, but he'd accidentally confused the words.

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[SEBASTIAN TIMOTHY MARTIN]

Sebastian's brows furrowed at the man's strange response. It was as if he didn't even understand what Sebastian meant by his question. He didn't want to actually come out and say "Are you even supposed to be here?", but if he had to spell it out for him... Especially since his hunch was correct, he should report him. But...

Victor Frankenstein... a curious name. He liked the ring of it, and was about to reply so, and introduce himself, but before he could reply Victor had already procured his name from his tag. They seemed to think similarly of each other's names... "You mean ring..." he said as he crossed his legs. He smirked a little, amused by Victor's child-like nature. "Thank you Victor, you have a nice name too."

He wondered if Victor was normally like this, or the man was just really high on something... But whatever it was, he was enjoying it. He tilted his head. The books like they were all different subjects, but mostly pertaining to science. "What exactly were you reading before your shoelace decided to declare war against you?" He chuckled, bobbing his foot up and down like a dog wagging his tail at his master's attention.

[VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN]

"You mean ring..." the teacher named Sebastian corected him, but it was the nice kind of correcting, not the kind that was all hard like some people were.

"Oh, yes, thank you," he corrected himself, "Ring not bring. Yes."

"Thank you Victor, you have a nice name too."

Victor smiled; he was glad Sebastian agreed. "Yes, I thought so too - I mean, thanks,"

[/b] he corrected himself again, though this time it was simply manners that reminded him. Because complimenting oneself was considered rude, for some reason. It was ridiculous, because confidence was a good thing, he'd thought.

He liked this Sebastian fellow though - he was funny. Good funny. "What exactly were you reading before your shoelace decided to declare war against you?"[/color] Victor was asked.

Oh, well. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to that. He was quite aware and did not care that he was a generally ignorant person, but he had the feeling this was a translation issue. He didn't want to seem stupid in front of Sebastian though, and so he was determined to figure it out! "Declare war, so fight, so mess up, so - oh!" He was very proud of himself as he answered, "I was looking at some alchemy. It was a hobby of mine when I was a kid, I want to be interested again."[/color]

Oh, he was quite proud indeed. He couldn't wait to tell James. And he'd not even been rude about it! He didn't think. Oh, maybe he should reciprocate? Yeah, "What are you reading? I mean, grading? Papers for a class? I haven't been to class in a long time."[/color]

It was quite obvious that when Victor was excited or cheerful, he became quite talkative. And for some unexplained reason, he felt comfortable around this man. Perhaps because of his very nonthreatening demeanor.[/blockquote][/font]

[SEBASTIAN TIMOTHY MARTIN]

Seb was beginning to think Victor wasn’t understanding much of anything he said, at least not properly. He suddenly realized, however, that Victor had a pretty thick French accent, which could explain why he obviously didn’t understand popular lingo. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed the accent before, but then again he’d been more curious as to the man’s reason for being on the floor than anything else.

He felt bad. If he was trying to learn a new language and a native speaker corrected him on something so trivial, he’d feel like a complete idiot. Then again, Victor didn’t seemed too put out by anything, but rather excited by even talking to Seb, so maybe... What was he still doing on the floor anyway?

His eyebrow raised at Victor’s agreement. The way he spoke reminded Sebastian of a child of eight, not a grown adult. Clueless and full of himself, but only starting to learn manners. Yes, definitely like a child (the southern prejudice his mother planted in him also reminded him that French people were usually rude and conceited, but he didn’t really believe that). His matter-of-fact attitude was endearing.

Sebastian listened to Victor work through what he’d said, and wondered if he should start using more basic phrases to prevent the man’s confusion. He furrowed his brow at his answer, but he did somewhat chuckle in amusement. “Alchemy? What kind of kid studies alchemy?” He asked. That sounded a bit insulting... It reminded him of something Andy might say on a bad day.

Dammit. He was doing so well at not thinking about Andrew today. He shouldn’t say those kinds of things... “I mean, when I was young all I did was read comic books and drool over Tom Cruise, but whatever works for you.” He scratched his head and gave a slight shrug.

“And how do you ‘want’ to be interested again? Don’t you know whether you are or you aren’t?”

When Victor mentioned his papers, he was reminded that he should probably get back to them. “Er, yeah. My classes had to write papers on the theme of fatalism in the works of Thomas Hardy, along with selections of their own that supports or refutes Hardy’s claims.” He began to flip through the papers, realizing he was way behind. He supposed his being reminded of his own fate, and the fates of others, over and over again was starting to make him crazy.

“When did you graduate?” he asked absently as he rearranged the stack he’d already graded into the highest grades and lowest grades. He looked up. Seb uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, adjusting his glasses. “And what, pray tell, are you still doing on the floor?”

[VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN]

“Alchemy? What kind of kid studies alchemy?"

"Not a kid," Victor huffed, a little cross. He was glad when Sebastian corrected himself.

“I mean, when I was young all I did was read comic books and drool over Tom Cruise, but whatever works for you.” Tom Cruise? Oh, Victor kind of knew who he was. And now, one of his suspicions was proved correct - this man was in fact a homosexual. He'd thought, but not wanted to assume - apparently that was rude. “And how do you ‘want’ to be interested again? Don’t you know whether you are or you aren’t?”

"No, not really. I forgot how to like it, I'm trying to learn again, because I don't know what I like anymore." It was a very direct and truthful answer.

“Er, yeah. My classes had to write papers on the theme of fatalism in the works of Thomas Hardy, along with selections of their own that supports or refutes Hardy’s claims," the teacher said when Victor asked about his work. Sounded boring. This is why he never went to class. “When did you graduate? And what, pray tell, are you still doing on the floor?”

"My, you're as bothersome as He is," Victor said quite audibly, the words hardly emulating the annoyance they might have implied, for he was smiling. Of course he was smiling, thinking of James. "I never graduated. And I'm talking to you whilst sitting on the floor, obviously." He legs were starting to go a bit achy though, so he stood and brushed himself off a little bit.

He suddenly wondered, and asked, "Do you have how many kids? How old are you?" Sebastian reminded him of James in his bothering tendencies, but of his father because of the glasses and tie.

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