Professor Samuel Boot
Your wait is minuscule against the age of the Earth itself.
Thu Apr 13, 2017 19:34

Samuel was on his fifth pancake, which was one of his preferred ways to measure the passage of time, at least in the context of daily life. He had so far managed to avoid any unwanted attention. This was because whenever a pair of feet appeared to stop and take an interest in his table, he had made it clear that the attention was unwanted. The feet presumably belonged to students, but to look up would have implied some sort of greeting. No one had said he had to encourage the students to eat with him. They could eat with each other and he would eat with himself. Pancake consumption was a predictable affair, and that was the way it should be. It made for a pleasant accompaniment as he reflected on the events of the Great Centaur Migration of the 1540s.

He sliced his pancake into triangles and listed the senior astrologers from each of the Central Mexican herds by order of age at the time of departure.

He chewed, rolling the pancake over his tongue, and reminisced about Tinan’s challenge to Pensec for territorial claims at the Mogollon Rim.

He patted his slightly-sticky mustache with a napkin and mused over the numerous acts of war between three separate Plains and Mountain herds. They were not actually numerous, as numbers were specific. They were, however, violent, and violence was relative.

Samuel fully intended to pretend that today was an ordinary breakfast. It was all going according to plan when another pair of feet appeared to stop at his table. The feet proceeded to ignore his obvious lack of want in their being present and instead went under the table as their owner sat. A hand then entered his line of sight and took not one but multiple pancakes off of his stack. Since Samuel was technically “in charge of a pancake contest”, he supposed this was not technically unexpected, but it was still impolite. Technically.

Finally raising his head, he observed the smirking child in silence. He was a third-year. The only reason Samuel knew this was because he had been dutifully giving out extra assignments to third-years for longer than anyone needed to know in order to remind them of the importance of history when they were selecting courses for their fourth year. He seldom seemed to receive these assignments back, largely because he seldom requested them back. This was unimportant. Interested students would do it, and not-interested students would not do it, and some of them would come back next year, and he would teach them. The end.

Anything else about the third-year in front of him was irrelevant. Except that he had Samuel’s pancakes.

“Far be it from me to stop you.” With that, Samuel took his sixth pancake off the stack and moved it to his plate. The chances of the third-year being able to eat more pancakes than him were as high as the chances of Pensec being able to win the footrace against Tinan. That is to say, nil. History was history.

  • I've been waiting for this day [Tag: Professor Boot] - Brynjolf Nilssen, Wed Apr 12 19:49
    Brynjolf Nilssen had been waiting for this day. When he was an ickle first year, he’d heard rumors of the professor that everyone swore was a ghost or something. On his first encounter with Samuel... more
    • Your wait is minuscule against the age of the Earth itself. - Professor Samuel Boot, Thu Apr 13 19:34
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