A Calculated Meeting || Eduard

[Ivan M. Braginsky]

Ivan M. Braginsky Tired and worn from a life made of wallow and pain Of what will be made is all that remains at the core TAG Eduard von Bock WORDS 521 NOTES     AKA the boys get together and are just maths nerds

He was late to the maths conference. Late, because Laika absolutely would not budge from her seat on his bed and he had to spend nearly an hour coaxing her to off and into the collar and leash. Then another hour trying to find out where the university was, and an additional ten minutes to assure Laika, while attaching her leash to the trunk of a thin tree in the nearby park, that he would be back soon. He hadn't realised that having a dog would be such a hassle; the terrier was practically attached to him and did not like being left alone. Ever. He crouched down, running a hand through Laika's fur. “I'll be back, soon. It will not take long—I'll come check on you.” She let out a whine and tried to circle his leg, wrapping her leash around his shin, but he picked himself out of the tangled mess. After making sure Laika had the room to move about in and out of the shade as she liked, he headed out of the park into the university. It wasn't hard to navigate the university. The feeling of being in a school after so many years was exhilarating; he passed by several classrooms, seats filled with young students falling asleep during lectures. While the military had been... something, he'd missed this dearly for five years. Ivan glanced at the map of the school grounds in his hand. He was on the second floor, as the room number said, and that meant the maths conference should be right... 'Here we are!' ... The room was crowded. Even more so than the lecture halls. This he had not been anticipating. Ivan felt a fleeting wave of panic at the unexpected, but pushed it aside. He was among scholars. People interested in mathematics. Not... enemies. His therapist had said this was good: being with other people, to train his mind out of paranoia. In any case, word of the conference must have gotten to neighbouring areas, because there were more people than Ivan had expected from Archadia city alone. He must have missed the first panel, because everyone was up and about with biscuits and glasses of water in their hands... he hoped he hadn't missed too much. Ivan recognised a few faces here and there among the chattering crowd, but no one that he was acquainted with. And no one that seemed open for discussion—while he was feeling adventurous today, he wouldn't feel right butting in where he was not wanted. ... Well. There was one young man, not much older than him, he would guess, who did not have a conversation partner. He was small, brunette and sporting a pair of thick glasses, and looked relatively unthreatening. Perhaps he'd be easier to approach than the others. Worth a try. “Excuse me!” Ivan started—then he paused. '... Blyat.' Maybe he should've taken the time to consider what he was going to say, first. He fished about for the proper words. “... erm. Eheh. You, uh... where did everyone get those biscuits?” ... 'Wonderful.' What a great reintroduction to his social life.

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[Eduard von Bock]

A CALCULATED MEETING [IVAN M. BRAGINSKY]

Sometimes, when gripped with work, Eduard truly forgot how much he loved what he did at the core of it.

Conferences had been the bane of his existence while he was working on his masters. The amount of sleepless nights he spent doing theoretical research to develop algorithms to create programs that completed tasks in fewer steps haunted his student life. He loved it, but the time constraints, research, and assessments were brutal. It was nice to return to the conferences held at the university as an observer instead of a presenter. It was a break instead of a source of stress and a way for him to learn about the advancements in the field both practically and theoretically. He expected to leave with more questions to possible problems than answers, but those questions would spur intellectual motivation in him. In addition, it was always good to see former professors and colleagues alike and, if anything, he had plans to go out for a few drinks with them after.

However, his former colleagues were all busy discussing the research they actually presented, leaving him to sit alone with a quickly cooling coffee and a pre-packaged biscuit until the next panel he was interested in started. The seats were comfortable and familiar, but the established engagement that the hall was filled with made him feel out of place; if even for a moment.

Very aware of his surroundings, it wasn't hard to notice a character who looked significantly out of place; confused and exasperated... without a name tag. Eduard questioned if it was a student that got lost, but the age of the man quickly made him think otherwise. Still, he was surprised that this man somehow got to the lobby without catching the eye of the registration booth; especially considering his height. And, oh God, he accidentally made eye contact with him and the man was going up to talk to him. Oh no. He didn't know what he was going to say and temporarily panicked. He tended to blend in a crowd; people didn't walk up and wish to talk to HIM.

“Excuse me!”

He continued to stare at the coffee in his hands, not intending to be rude but not entirely sure what to do.

“... erm. Eheh. You, uh... where did everyone get those biscuits?”

“... Huh?”

He wasn't sure if the man was completely lost and confused or was struggling to introduce himself, and Eduard had to raise an eyebrow. At least he could feel good about himself; knowing that this person was not only clearly uncomfortable, but also very lost.

“Um... they're... right there?”

A gesture to a table filled with cups and cookies didn't do much when it was nearly blurred by the passionate bodies of academics and grad students.

“Are you lost or something? I used to go here, where are you trying to go?”

Simple and professional; the way he tried to handle all strangers. Still, he felt a pang of pity for the stranger because he knew all-too-well how it felt to be lost and confused. His job weighed down on him, he fell asleep on public transportation.... he was just as much of a mess but knew how to keep it hidden. So, he extended a nervous hand to the total stranger, still avoiding eye contact.

“My name's Eduard. And you are?”

aeron at thq

[Ivan M. Braginsky]

Ivan M. Braginsky Tired and worn from a life made of wallow and pain Of what will be made is all that remains at the core TAG Eduard von Bock WORDS 626 NOTES     rip ivan's social skills

“... Huh?” The moment he heard the man's reply and saw the incredulous look on his face, Ivan knew he was in trouble. He must have sounded so, so incredibly stupid. He felt heat rushing to his cheeks. They must be burning bright red, he was sure of it.  Of all the things he could have chosen to talk about, he chose something with an answer so painfully obvious that even a child could see it. He saw the man gesturing off somewhere, but in his moment of self-admonishment, it somehow completely escaped Ivan where he had been pointing. Or what he had been talking about... probably answering his question about where the food was. Not like Ivan had been interested in the biscuits anyway. He'd just wanted to start a conversation. And now he had his conversation. ... Just what he was going to do with it, he had to figure out. “Are you lost or something? I used to go here, where are you trying to go?” Ivan saw a familiar look in the man's eyes. But he was overwhelmed with new information and emotion alike, both of which he hadn't had to deal with in months, and couldn't quite place it. From what he could tell? Confusion at the awkward approach. Pity, too, probably. Something Ivan was, unfortunately, accustomed to. And perhaps a hint of uneasiness? Ha, as if the man had anything to be uneasy about. It was obvious who was the one better off socially... for God's sake, Ivan had trouble communicating with a four year old.  He should have guessed then that trying to jump back into society would be a problem. He should just cut off the small talk and excuse himself, before he let slip another ridiculous remark. But before Ivan could come up with what would have no doubt been a flimsy excuse, the man fidgeted. Then he stretched out a hand to Ivan. “My name's Eduard. And you are?” ... Well. That was unexpected. Ivan didn't miss how Eduard had paused before extending his hand, or how he avoided Ivan's gaze. But it was more than Ivan had been hoping for. Ivan hesitated. But he forced himself to lift his hand and take Eduard's in a firm grip. A simple handshake, and he was still jittery. "Ivan," he replied. Then he stopped. He knew he should go on, strike conversation now that Eduard hadn't turned him away. But there was nothing else to say. Ah, hadn't Eduard asked him earlier about being lost? 'Better than nothing.' Ivan was here for the conference. What a shame it was, that Eduard assumed that he was lost and searching for someplace else. Ivan couldn't help but take it as an insult, even if the inquiry hadn't been aimed as one. Well, he didn't blame Eduard. He likely had come off as — not unintelligent, per se. But he didn't doubt that he was carrying an air of anxiety and confusion about him, one that certainly didn't escape Eduard's notice. "I was heading straight for here, actually. This is the maths conference, am I correct?" ... now that came off as plain defensive. Someone younger might not have picked up on it, but Eduard would. And likely did. Ivan would have to watch himself from now on. He hadn't known Eduard for long, but as reserved and quiet as the other was, he seemed intelligent. Ivan wondered why he had been sitting alone. Careful to keep a pleasant tone this time, he went on. "Shame I came late. May I ask, what have I missed?" It sounded fake even to Ivan. And Eduard still did not meet his eyes. Fake was better than outright offensive, though. He would settle for what he could get.

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