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Oscar Dawson

"Me and my family worked hard to get me where I'm at today. I won't let you make a mockery of the Dawson's."

0 · 668 views · located in Titanic Ship

a character in “April 1912”, as played by theultimatetrombone

Description

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XXX You've gotta keep moving on, dollface. XXX
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FULL NAME
"Names are just a handle, they don't really define who you are... Do they?."
Oscar Michael Dawson


ALIAS
"Well, my students call my Professor Dawson."
O, Oscar, Dawson


BIRTH DATE
"You know, I was one of the youngest men to go to school in my family."
August 16, 1885


ORIGIN
"My daddy always said we Dawson's were the true American mutt."
American, with Western European roots.


SEXUALITY
"Women seem to have a certain power over me."
Heterosexual


ECONOMIC CLASS
"You don't have to be born into money to have money. I worked my ass off to get where I'm at."
Second

OCCUPATION
"Education is the key to success, kid. You've gotta know what you're talking about if anyone's gonna take you serious."
Professor


MARTIAL STATUS
"Best not to dwell."
Widowed

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APPEARANCE
Oscar is thin, but isn't considered to be in shape or fit by any means. His build is nothing spectacular, and while he isn't a large man, he isn't toned at all either. His eyes are a piercing blue, in great contrast to his chestnut hair. Oscar tends to keep his hair on the longer side, though never passing his cheekbones. He keeps it parted down the middle, or pushed straight back. His face is made entirely of angles, with sharp cheekbones, gaunt cheeks, and a strong jawline.

Overall, Oscar is a rather unremarkable man as far as appearances go. He could easily fade into the background in any crowd, if it weren't for his charismatic nature. He isn't seen as a widely handsome man, but he also is not considered to be discomforting to the eyes. His teeth are not straight, nor are they perfectly white. His crooked smile is what tends to charm people most often.

BODY SHAPE
Average

MEASUREMENTS
42"-14"-32"

WEIGHT
168 lbs

HEIGHT
5'11"

SHOE / FEET
Size 10 Men's US

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XXX "Each flaw that society finds in you is just another thing to set you apart from them." XXX

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LIKES
β™  Books
β™  Music (Playing and listening)
β™  Pretty girls
β™  Being silly
β™  Teaching others
β™  Sweets

DISLIKES
X Snobbishness
X Ignorance
X Coconut
X Fashion
X Cats
X Routine

TALENTS
♦ Musician (Piano, Euphonium)
♦ Extremely Charismatic
♦ Dancing (As a joke)

WEAKNESSES
♣ Damsels in Distress
♣ Heights
♣ His Past
♣ Sweets

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PERSONALITY
♦Charismatic ♦Goofy ♦Intellectual ♦Sarcastic ♦Passionate ♦Stubborn ♦Pensive ♦Cocky
"Describe a person by their actions and their words, not by trivial adjectives."

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XXX "Do not accuse someone unless you have proof, dammit." XXX

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HISTORY
Oscar Dawson was born to a poor midwestern family, and not even a farming family. It's a mystery how exactly his family subsisted, even to Oscar himself. But his father always told him that he was meant for more than their little town offered. Sure, it was a starry-eyed dream for the both of them, but it was something to aim for. Mr. Dawson spent all of Oscar's youth saving money in order to give Oscar a higher education than the public schooling system could give him. Oscar was the golden child of his house, intelligent, and the only son to a traditional man. His childhood was largely happy and uneventful.

When Oscar had exhausted the education that the public schooling system could give him, his father revealed the storage of money put aside. With that money, he went to college and became a professor. He was extremely popular with universities across the country, and so he had his pick of a job anywhere. So, he took a job teaching history at NYU. It was there that he met a pretty young girl by the name of Ruth. She was a student, but he was a very young professor. It was scandalous for the two to be together, but they were in love. The two married in January of 1907, and were the happiest they had ever been before. The pair traveled to Steubenville, Ohio in November on vacation. Only one would come back.

Ruth was brutally murdered by the serial killer, Edward Walton, while the newlyweds were on vacation. Oscar was viewed as a primary suspect for a year, under constant scrutiny, until Walton confessed to the murder before being hung. The events led Oscar to leave his job at NYU for a time, and to tumble into a pit of depression and drinking. It wasn't until early 1910 that he decided to go back to work, and NYU graciously accepted him back. From there, his life has been a bit bland, until this ship came along.

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PORTRAYED BY :
theultimatetrombone

TIME ZONE :
Eastern Standard Time

HOW OFTEN DO I POST? :
At least every other day.

So begins...

Oscar Dawson's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ollie R. Gatz Character Portrait: Juliette Le Sauvage Character Portrait: Crawford, Mr. Lawrence M. Character Portrait: Van Der Woodsen, Madame Yvette Character Portrait: Miss Charlotte Whittaker Character Portrait: Domonic Drew Castell
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Date: Wednesday, 10 April 1912. xxxLocation: Southampton, England. xxx
Arrival Time: 9:30 a.m xxx Time of Departure: 11:30 a.m. xxxWeather: Brisk winds northwest at 15-20 mph; 50Β°C




"Aye, batte'n down the hatches will ya'?"

"Are my eyes deceiv'n me, or am I seein' this ship's ready to land?"

"Eeeeh, boy!"

"I'm needin' help to pull this lever."

"Ready to land, Captain!"


A slow, crooked smile had spread across Captain Smith's face resembling that of much content. The great ocean liner had took approximately three years to construct, engineered to be the largest and most luxurious steam ship in the world. Its very first voyage would truly be something worth remembering; articles about the ship were thus written, claiming it to be a marvel of modern engineering. Both men, women, and children alike came fleeing from their homeland to get a glimpse of the monstrous beauty that dared hinge itself onto the British port as if it was the only thing that withheld dominance. The passengers to board the luxury ocean liner were nonetheless grateful. Many had lifted their chins up in prestige because not only were they able to gain enough money to enter, but they were the first to do so. Street market sells boomed significantly, men were getting their beard groomed quickly as their wives pimped their children for the long journey; brushing off any specks from the petticoats of young girls, and straightening their son's woolen jacket.

And, it all happened in a speck of time. Everyone clustering, like ants. It wasn't later until the ship's plank board was lowered had everyone began pushing and shoving for a leading spot up the ramp.

"You want first-class passengers to board first, Captain?" One of the ship's crew member approached him. It was no surprise that even the most wealthiest aristocats were given better treatment. To Captain Smith the first-class were 'walking money', they would surely help spread the word, and perhaps bring in even more fortune. "Yes," Smith assured, "let the first-class board first."

And, off the worker went to announce the news to the people who waited impatiently. "Listen up," he had to shout over the uproar, "so, far we have at least two thousand two hundred and twenty eight thousand of you. I want first-class passengers to board first, then second, and lastly third. I want this to be done in an orderly fashion. We will set off in approximately two hours."

At that the commotion grew much louder, people kissed their loved one's a farewell. It was a moment of ecstasy, all for the ship that deemed as virtually unsinkable, the Titanic was truly a phenomenon.



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Mood: Observant xxx Outfit:herexxx Theme song: N.A. xxx





'Two hours, two hours, two hours ..'

Arthur McGhee felt the perspiration beginning to form at his temple, like thousands of tiny crystals scattered about his ivory skin. He wiped at it with the back of his hand as he chewed at his lower lip, it was a habit he had possessed since it was his conceitedness that got him stuck in the game of Cheat at the British port pub.

He remembered his words, a mockery as he smirked at the dunderheed that had just sent another man walking with loss. 'Ah bet yer ass I can win you at a game of cards. Aw or nothin', lad.' But, nevertheless it was those very words that had got him a pound short out of his pocket. If only he'd kept his mouth shut.

"You give'n up yet?" Arthur looked up from his stack of cards to the burly man who sat before him, the way his crusted lips curled back in amusement every moment he saw the poor Scott's exasperation.

He kept his answer short. "No." He concentrated on his next play.

He put down an ace, and at that, the man guffawed something bitter and awful that made Arthur fight the urge to hurl.

"You aren't gonna win, mate." Arthur ignored him as he put down a two.

Then, a four; six, eight, and before you know it he's all out of cards. Checkmate.

Arthur looked up at the man's now gawked expression, and smirked. "Mibbe ah jus did."

The guy was infuriated now as he looked at the cards, to Arthur, to the cards, then back up at Arthur. "Bullshit," he spat out a wad of tobacco juice out of the side of his mouth.

The man was nothing but muscle and tattoo compared to Arthur. However, as he said that Arthur couldn't hold it in anymore. He laughed, and laughed until his sides were cramping; until the man grabbed at his white button down, and heaved him up from his chair. "I want a rematch". He demanded, spit freckling across Arthur's face.

"Not how it works." The man pushed Arthur against a wall; hard. Others began to move away immediately in the process at the same time the owner shouted for the two men to take their tussle outside, but he was only ignored. "Listen to me, mate. I will hurt-" he was distracted by Arthur's hand moving behind his ear, thus a silver dollar had appeared between his fingers as if by magic.

"Did you not hear me? Arthur's smile widened. "Yer outta luck, lassie." He threw the coin at the man's face, causing him to loose his grip on Arthur.

"Aye!" he called out as he saw the sly Scott scoop up a few coins from their table, including a third-class ticket to board the 'White Star Line', and ran free from the pub toward the grand ship.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Oscar Dawson Character Portrait: Ophelia BΓΆhm
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How Oscar had managed to think leaving without a jacket of some sort was a good idea, he had no idea. He had been so excited to get to the ship, he hadn't taken the weather into account. The sun was playing a game of hide-and-seek behind the clouds, and the temperature was a bit colder than the New York airs that he was used to. It had been a bit chillier than his liking the entire time he had been in Europe on his trip. Well, trip was one way to put it. His superiors at NYU had asked him to be a guest lecturer at a few different schools in Europe, though he had no idea why. Oscar had been there for months, and when the Titanic had announced its maiden voyage was to take place just around the time that he was to be returning home? Well, the timing was far too good to be true.

The professor simply wished his father had been here to see this. The ship in front of him was the grandest, most elegant thing he had ever seen. And somehow, he got to be a passenger. Not a first class passenger, no. He wasn't born into the money he had, and he certainly didn't have an endless supply of it. He was renowned enough to live comfortably, with more comforts than his father and mother before him. But that was exactly the point, his father and mother were not well off. So Oscar was looked down upon and spit on as though he had no money at all, no matter how hard he worked. His piercing blue eyes scanned the crowd that he happened to find himself wedged in the middle of. Ahead of him, he saw the first class citizens that would scowl at him if he tried to approach, and all around him he saw the second class that he found himself in. Oscar had heard tell that the ship had been opened up to the third class, but he felt he was too far ahead to see them.

There was an announcement over the loudspeaker, something about the first class boarding first, then the second, and finally the third. Oscar wasn't really particular about what order people went on, so long as he could get inside and find a place to rest his feet. He had been standing all day, and his feet certainly did not appreciate that. Slowly, the giant crowd started shuffling forward, and Oscar edged closer and closer to the ship. He couldn't wait until the second class was finally called. As he moved forward, Oscar saw a rather lovely lady who seemed to have the air of a first class woman, yet she was standing with those of the second class. After making sure his ticket was secured in his pocket, and grabbing his luggage, he made his way over and attempted polite conversation.

"This is quite the ship they have here. Wonder how many time it'll sail before people become tired of it, or make something bigger and better."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ollie R. Gatz Character Portrait: Juliette Le Sauvage Character Portrait: Crawford, Mr. Lawrence M. Character Portrait: Van Der Woodsen, Madame Yvette Character Portrait: Miss Charlotte Whittaker Character Portrait: Domonic Drew Castell
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Date: Thursday, April 11th 1912. xxx Time: 10:30 am. xxx Location: the coast of Celtic Sea
Headed to: Queenstown, Ireland xxx Arrival time: 3:30 pm. xxx Weather: partly cloudy with an abundance of stratocumulus clouds. moderate breeze at 50Β°C N/NW




Titanic's departure from Southhampton yesterday was quite the success! Afterwards, the massive vessel sailed to Cherbourg, France to board more passengers. Nonetheless, everything seemed to be running smoothly, not a mishap identified. Its passengers are enjoying the long voyage as well. Some even managed to make friends with those within their social heiarchy, but who knows? Maybe love will parish within this grand vessel, or rivals will be made. Sometimes fate just has to be waited upon before it is allowed to make its next move.

As first class passengers began to make their way towards the Parisian CafΓ© for an early morning coffee, most second and third class passengers aimed to put on their best fitting garments to join them, passing the bouncers who are scouting for any possible intruders. Nevertheless, people are making the most of it until their final destination to Pier 60 in New York on April 17, 1912.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Crawford, Mr. Lawrence M. Character Portrait: Oscar Dawson Character Portrait: Ophelia BΓΆhm
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#, as written by Saje




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"She belongs to that rarified
atmosphere of Park Avenue.
She is destined for expensive restaurants,
literary cocktail parties…
Can you imagine her tramping around
with a bum who never has more
than a week’s salary in the bank?
If she was only ordinary."

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"This is quite the ship they have here. Wonder how many time it'll sail before people become tired of it, or make something bigger and better."

Ophelia turned her gaze towards the sound of a man's voice just as the small pop in her neck indicated she had twisted too sudden. She squinted as the sun struck her eyes before she drifted along with the crowd as they began boarding second-class passengers. Nodding in agreement, a slight smile painted across her features as she hauled here suitcase along.

"Isn't it grand? I even read in the newspaper that it's around 782 feet in length.... or was that 882...." She drifted off in thought as she tried to recall exactly what was written in that miniature black ink underneath a picture of the ship itself on the daily newspaper. The fact failed to make it's trip back in her memory, and as they were quickly ushered along, she lost track of where she was as the crowd seemed to engulf her. Children held their mothers hands and wealthy businessman carried their briefcases all around her as she stepped on board and handed her ticket off. Much to her surprise, there was a quietness in it; No songs, No smells, no shouts. The boat was nothing like she expected it to be, yet everything she knew it would be. There was no sound of traffic or birds. The sounds of strangers voices around her shocked her.

And when she finally made her way into the halls lining old painting and antique designs, she realized she never asked for that mans name nor even got a good look at his face.

***


It was still dark when Ophelia woke up the next morning. She had successfully made it to her room without any problems, changed into her silk pajamas, whipped out some Hermann Hesse poem and soon fell asleep before she knew it -- Book in hand. She hadn't the chance to introduce herself to her fellow roommates, but could sure tell they were there by their heavy breathing as they slept.

Of course, she knew there'd be an exquisite breakfast cafe and of course she was going to get up early to look her best. Second and third class passengers usually weren't allowed beyond the doors, but they weren't going to check everyone, were they? Knowing they were mostly full of the first-class, she knew it wasn't going to be Kumbaya around the campfire either. She knew it was going to be lonely; Despite all the opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of "parties" with no purpose, despite the false grinning faces they all wear. They were rusty and overwhelming. So why was she sneaking into first-class fun? Because that's what she was taught to do.

The breakfast was thought to be like a express caboose in Paris and Ophelia tried to pick out her best clothes; Mostly to sneak past the borders of security at the doors. At daybreak, she sauntered down the hall with a smug smirk plastered on her face before she bowed her head just as she past the doors entering the cafe area. The place was already booming with people, and she swore she saw someone give her an odd look. Maybe she should of worn a dress to fit in better.

She loved people as a stamp collector loves his collection. Not necessarily to socialize, but to observe. Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation is raw material for her. She observed everything from a cripple, a dying man, a whore. She often regarded her own life with objective curiosity all the time. She grinned as people walked past her, never receiving many smiles back. Ophelia didn't bother finding herself a place to sit -- because wherever she satβ€”on the deck of this ship or at a street cafΓ© in Paris or Bangkokβ€” she would be stewing in her own sour air. She didn't belong. Yet she sighed in appreciation as the smell of fresh food drifted past her nose. She roamed around as people seemed to be spilling in through the doors, stomachs growling with clean pearl-white teeth showing in smiles as they went in for hugs. Breaking free from the growing crowds and mingling, she walked over to a nearby crew attendant behind the counter, cleaning the drinking vessels until they were without a single fingerprint for the passengers.

"Excuse me," Ophelia spoke up with the sweetest tone her voice box would allow her to range to, "Could I get a martini with a twist of lemon?"

The attendant glanced up at her from his work with a furrowed brow. Ophelia was straightening her blouse, not even noticing that he was oddly staring right at her. She finally glanced up, a polite smile quickly spreading across her lips as she caught eyes with the man. He found himself stuttering.

"Miss, we're serving breakfast food at this time." He spoke carefully, as if afraid to anger her with a rather confused look still on his face.

"Can I get a martini with a piece of toast?" She grinned.

And there she was, sipping a martini whilst sitting on a stool. She loved the warmth and the bigness of the room. She could hear the jokes and stories being shared. The drink really had no taste on her tongue and instead just went straight down into her stomach like a sword swallowers’ own sword. Her eyes roamed the crowd before she suddenly spotted a figure in the distance. Ophelia felt her icy eyes widen as she quickly slid out of her chair. The idea of once being well-educated, brilliantly promising; Fading out into an barely nothing made her stop and think about the glamorous picture of a man who she'd been building up to be like, who she hopefully thought cared about her the moment he met her, and all out of a few prosy nothings. She grimaced as any good feeling plummeted whilst she observed the women he seemed to be trying to wrap around his finger. Granted, she couldn't see his face as he was turned away from her, but she could tell it was the same boy -- man -- she knew from long ago. She was soon making her way across the floor; Nearing him as she ran her fingers through her hair with a free hand. She felt like she was in the eye of a tornado, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo. Her mind glided off, like a skater, into a large empty space, and pirouetted there, absently. Before she knew it she had gotten too close for comfort and accidentally collided with him, her elbow brushing against his mid-back as she sent him jolting forwards whilst she stumbled over herself. Rather then acting like any other person and apologizing, she couldn't bring herself to react normally as her mouth hang ajar. She then cleared her throat as she spoke with amusement, ignoring the girls who he'd been talking to.

"Oh, look at this. Me tripping over everything and you, well, trifling about. Has anything changed?"



Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Oscar Dawson Character Portrait: Coraline Jennine Blackwood
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Naturally, Oscar had gotten a late start to the day. Sunlight was streaming into his shared room, and he groaned as he started to rise. Why had he let himself drink so much last night? He had no idea. Perhaps this was the beginning of a problem. He shook his head to himself, ridding himself of the thought. He looked to the bunk underneath his, and saw his roommate was already gone. He had yet to meet the fellow, but he figured that would happen some other night. Or perhaps he would meet him sometime today. Who knew.

After putting on his best clothes, Oscar made his way toward the Breakfast Cafe. He hoped he hadn't missed his chance to have breakfast. And he hoped that he could pass as a first class citizen and get in to have the good food. He ran a slightly nervous hand through his hair, pushing it back in the process. He made his way through the crowded ship halls. Once he got close to the entrance of the Cafe, Oscar fiddled with his wedding band a bit. Ruthie, you would have loved this place. A sigh heaved itself from Oscar's chest at the thought of his late wife. But he had to act confidently if he were going to pass for a first class passenger. He decided to lift his chin and put a smile on his face, and he marched forward to the doors of the cafe. Surprisingly, so many people were trying to get in that the guards somehow managed not to even see him. It was gorgeous inside of that room. It was a sight his parents never would have dreamed of being able to see, a sight that he wished he could share with Ruth. But thoughts like those would make no difference, it wouldn't make his parents suddenly have more money, and it wouldn't bring his wife back to him. So he had to continue on. And so, he put one foot in front of the other.

And he stopped at the very first table. He knew no one here, he had no one to sit with and converse. He would have to make friends on this ship, or be lonely the entire time. Luckily enough, there seemed to be a woman at this very table that was alone with a book in front of her. Oscar motioned toward the seat next to her. "Would you mind terribly if I sat with you? I'm afraid I don't know anyone in this place, and I could use a friend." Oscar gave a wide smile to the young woman, hoping that he could at least have a conversation for the morning.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Oscar Dawson Character Portrait: Coraline Jennine Blackwood
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C O R A L I N ExxJ E N N I N ExxB L A C K W O O D
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Coraline made sure to keep herself entertained before she indulged in some early morning coffee. But perhaps it wasn’t so much an indulgence as it was a mere craving. If her memory hadn’t failed her, it had been quite some time since she last had as much as a sip of the well known beverage. Typically, she’d prefer to have a hot cup of chocolate at the privacy of her mansion where she could carelessly dip in a pastry or two but for that particular morning, she was craving coffee.

The woman remained calmly seated before she decided to engage in a peculiar hobby of hers. She took but a brief moment to carefully look around the cafΓ©, her eyes secretly searched those who seemed to pique her interest most. And so it was that she began to play a game of sorts, quietly trying to learn who the person is simply from what she could gather on the brief moment her eyes landed upon them. She'd start with something as simple as to what their profession was, whether they were married or not, how they liked their coffee and so on. Her eyes finally got fixated on an elderly man who seemed to be drinking by himself, a hint of sadness across his distant presence as he took a sip steadily holding the white cup with both of his wrinkly hands. After taking deliberate consideration,Widower was the only thing her mind could conjure up, and nothing more.

Her mind was most deep in thought when her attention was thankfully taken back by a young man approaching her, asking if he could sit with her.

”Not at all,” Cora says with a kind smile in return, ”please. By all means, join me.” She motions for him to take a seat next to her before moving her book out of the way so that he may sit comfortably.

”Well then,” she says, ”it appears we’re on the same boat.” Cora offers him a smile, her eyes closely inspecting the young man next to her before she continues. ”I haven’t even been able to find my friend, Paul, the very same that convinced me to join him in this wild expedition,” Coraline says with endearment. ”Speaking of, if you don’t mind me asking, what has led you on this voyage, mister-…”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Oscar Dawson Character Portrait: Coraline Jennine Blackwood
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”Speaking of, if you don’t mind me asking, what has led you on this voyage, mister-…”

Oscar flashed the young blonde woman a smile full of imperfect teeth. "Dawson," he finished the sentence for her. "But you can call me Oscar. Formalities are always so stiff. As for what led me to take this wonderful vessel we find ourselves on," Oscar gestured to the grandeur all around them. "Well, I'm a professor at NYU, and my bosses asked me if I would be a guest speaker at several universities throughout Europe. When I found out that this ship was going to New York around the time that I needed to be back, I took the opportunity." The young man fiddled with a string from the tablecloth that had somehow made itself free from the rest of the fabric. He wasn't entirely sure what would come of this conversation, or how long the young woman would allow it to continue. He was just glad to have at least some small break in the lonely life he had been living as of late.

Without his father around while he had been in Europe, he hadn't had many people to speak to. Sure, there were plenty of students and esteemed professors who wished to talk to him at his guest lectures. But that never helped when he retired to the place that he was staying, being the only one in the room. Since Ruthie had died, every empty room just seemed even emptier than before. That was probably just the heartache talking, but he truly did wish he had someone to speak to more frequently, a friend of sorts. And this was a terrific way to start that off.

"Now that you have my name, it would only be fair if you let me know what I might call you. And I am terribly curious-- what was the book that you had on the table? I've been looking for something new to read lately, but nothing has quite caught my eye."