September Year One
Physical and Chemical Properties
He didn't really get nervous about things under normal circumstances.
The swallow he'd fought for the entirety of the boat ride was magnified to ten times its normal volume and he was positive, even though the man didn't flinch, that his ferryman had heard it.
He wasn't prone to fidgeting or getting anxious over even the most looming prospects.
Something about the brush of waves against the boat and unseen walls and the plunk of dripping water muffled by the shadows and the austere look of the neatly cut stone, arched water way made him unsure of how to stand, where to put his bag, what order to put his résumé papers in. Stuff he (usually) didn't have to think about.
When he'd stepped off the train, he'd thought the overcast autumn day was gloomy, not to say he didn't like it, just to say exactly that; it was gloomy. Yet now, he found himself clinging to the wet, decaying leaf fragrance of an English September, finding it far preferable to the vast uncertainties swimming before him.
In short, it took quite a lot of certain agitation to worry Reever Wenham and this was just the sort with just the concentration to do so. He didn't struggle with concepts, those could be logically explained; what he always found evasive about frustrating situations were dynamics, variables in greater numbers than one. He was familiar with the Black Order, for example, he'd spent six months in the Oceania Branch before being sent off to Head Quarters. But he hadn't the smallest bit of concrete fact to build an idea of living in the new facility from. This is what made him nervous, no control. But such rare feelings of uncertainty were briefly felt, for, as a scientist, Reever had an undying and willful curiosity which left all unfamiliar very well acquainted as soon as he could immerse himself in it. For the time being, however, he would have to suffer through the alien world he was docking on.
"Thanks," he acknowledged his transporter as he stepped from the boat onto the matching pier and made a short trot to and up the first set of steps. At the top, light debuted in the relatively empty, wide, circular hallways. Reever consulted a map of the building's layout, adjusted his single suitcase and set off up several more tedious flights of steps, passing finders on the way and a few science department members who all ignored him. He stopped momentarily in front of a pair of double doors and shouldered through them without pausing to let second guesses manifest in his appraising mind.
It was a mess.
He gazed dazedly at the mountains of books and papers heaped against pillars or bookshelves down to the valleys of thin spread single sheets, starting as his eyes swept back up to his own feet and he hastily tried to remove his shoes from the forms beneath them. There was no floor to step on. He looked up again to see swarms of white-coated workers milling about like geese, in never-colliding formations with individual destinations. Seeing that neither he nor the thousands of trampled papers were heeded, Reever proceeded to make his wary way to a distant, large and promising looking desk. Phones rang, scientific chatter fell and swelled, and clangs of equipment being professionally handled coursed steadily with the lines of people through the room. He found himself presently at the back of a short line of scientists laden with gargantuan stacks of papers, taking the wait time as an opportunity to further examine his new environment.
As he took in the perplexing mixture of lightning paced progress and what appeared to be utter chaos from the bulbous lamps mounted in the high ceiling all the way down to the aforementioned obscured tile floor, the line shortened at the instructions of an obnoxiously high-pitched voice, the owner of which he found himself in front of.
Reever stared at the man he knew to be Komui Lee, recognizable to any Order member in the science field for his exceptional brilliance, and was met by a look equally as blank for several seconds. One saw, on first impression, a young, bespectacled Chinese man with a serious but lively pale face and eyes that betrayed a severe lack of sleep despite the vivacious gleam they contained. The other saw, on first impression, an honest looking young adult whose expression indicated that he was calm but whose grip on his modest suitcase proved otherwise and an assembly of thin rubber bands clustered on two slim wrists pretelling of an intense work ethic. These observations were made in moments and abridged as the previously noted bright, dark eyes flared with comprehension.
"Oceania Branch transfer?" Reever blinked, began to nod, stopped the gesture, and replied,
"Yes…" trailing off, unsure of whether or not a 'sir' was necessary when addressing someone so near his age yet with such high status.
"This way, please," the formerly seated man rose with apparent eagerness to quit his desk and, after much examination, tugged an envelope from a disheveled mound, "Wenham! This way, Mister Wenham!"
He followed the Supervisor through a labyrinth of employees and various inert objects to a fairly large room that was, if possible, even messier than that which they parted. Komui casually tipped a chair to empty it of its amassed contents, studying the envelope's inner words as he did so. "Let's see…" his beret flopped slightly as he sat and Reever, after waiting in vain for an invitation, sat in the previously material swamped chair gingerly. "From Australia, hm? Do you have an accent?" The younger scientist, distressing over whether or not conversation had abated and his job interview had commenced, decided to just answer truthfully.
"I don't think so." Komui squinted in contemplation.
"Hmm… say it again?"
"I-I don't think so," Reever glanced around him awkwardly.
"No, I don't think so either," Komui returned his attention to the letter, scanning rapidly. "Impressive credentials for your age!" he remarked, flipping through what Reever now knew to be his application form from the Oceania Branch. "Can I see your résumé?" The papers were exchanged without dialog. "Ah! Specialties! Mathematics? What's 203 multiplied by 428?" Reever's well trained mind stumbled over the shock of such a direct question and hurriedly began implementing some mental math strategies.
"86 thousand…" Komui glanced up at him with a curious grin and laughed.
"I was just kidding! Sorry…" he looked back at the paper, leaving Reever to look on, now completely unprepared for anything that could come next. "Mathematics and linguistics! Wonderful!" Komui clapped his hands together excitedly. "Dui niu tan qin." Reever frowned a little frantically, instantly recognizing the language but not the phrase, and wondering what his expectations were regarding translation and analysis.
"Uh… that was Chinese… and you said ox…"
"Ha! Remarkable!" the supervisor looked up at him once more with a scattered air of amusement. He adjusted his glasses and focused with a finger point on the papers once more saying, "I didn't expect you to be able to translate that at all! Just a silly proverb… 'Play the lute to the ox'…" he smiled placidly at the résumé as he read on.
Reever was at a loss as to his current standing and borderline hysterical having never, either in university, work, or even the Order, experienced such a random interview. The mild manner of his interrogator made the situation all the more inscrutable yet he did not allow his panic to breech his exterior.
"Aah…" the satisfied sigh of the supervisor drew his prospective employee's eyes up to his gentle, pleased face. "Mathematics…" slender fingers extended in counting, "linguistics… and chemistry. Chemistry…" Komui leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "A hard subject, to be sure, but such an applicable one." Reever watched uncertainly as his elder lapsed into a content silence. "I wonder," Komui opened one eye behind his lenses, "if you know the difference between a physical and chemical reaction?"
The interview-ee held his breath unconsciously, absorbed in consideration for seemingly, at last, an earnest inquiry. The question seemed deceivingly direct.
"A chemical change involves change in state while physical changes involve materials that retain their state throughout."
"Ah…" Komui smiled with slight melancholy and closed his eye again, leaning his head against the chair back. "Very textbook. Nothing wrong with textbook…" Reever pressed his lips together with worry despite the casual assurance. Abruptly, a word Reever would learn to treat as a synonym to Komui, the supervisor returned to his aggravatingly chipper state, sitting upright and standing, saying, "Well, you're hired, of course. We really can't afford to turn many people down, the interview is something of a simple ceremony these days, not to say I didn't enjoy it-"
Though, in the upcoming months, Reever would listen to the head officer's complete prattlings, this first time his mind stopped comprehending at "you're hired" and he sat in shock and excitement.
"-so welcome, Komui Lee." The newly made Head Quarters scientist jumped to his feet at the extended hand and took it with well-contained eagerness.
"Reever Wenham." They shook twice. Reever let his tan hand rest in the pale, slender one that's fingers easily touched past his wrist.
"We'll get back to the chemistry question later," Komui added lightly, releasing the hand after a moment of that rare serenity that had appeared with the first asking of said query. Reever blinked, feeling that a verbal answer was both unnecessary and unavailable. "Oh!" Komui was transformed instantly, as it was already apparent he was prone to do, bringing clenched fists to his face in a sickeningly girlish manner. "You haven't met my sister yet! She's wonderful, the best sister on Earth, truly amazing-" the all but adolescent followed obediently, striving to suppress his interest in seeing his room or getting acquainted with the building in favor of pretending to be wholly interested in the supervisor's sibling.
For now, that was an affordable sacrifice, he had a job, a good job and one of the simultaneously safest and most dangerous homes in the Akuma-riddled world. With just this security applied to his transition from Oceania Branch to HQ, the complicated equation balanced out without a hitch, though, as with so many things, balance is only undoubtedly temporary.
For the Chinese proverb... I just looked up Chinese proverbs online... so it could easily be inaccurate... hee hee hee... it's 12:05... freeeeeench eeeesssssaaaaaay... nooooooo...