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Preamble
Deadwood/The Moonstonecrossover
Gen, so far...
It was but early fall, but the air was crisp of nights - and it was night, after ten o'clock. The man up ahead was shivering despite his heavy traveler's coat. "Ill," thought young Cochrane (he was studying medicine); then, "a foreigner, unused to our climate." A second look had told him the man was.. well, something exotic, anyways - Asiatic, perhaps, or half so. Curiosity piqued, Cochrane wondered if he would be able to strike up a conversation, or if he dared. As he drew closer, however, his first impression of illness returned - the traveller's face was drawn, stretched, even, over the aquiline nose and cheekbones; the dark skin had nonetheless a sallow quality that was not entirely of the lamplight; and though his age seemed below thirty, the wavy dark hair was already greying at the temples.
By now, the student realized, he was himself the subject of observation - his presence was noticed, though he could not tell if it was welcomed. Still, the streets being lonely, a greeting seemed required to indicate he bore the other no ill-will.
"Good evening, sir. Are you waiting for the train to A----?" The traveller turned his large, dark eyes on Cochrane - eyes in which the pupil appeared to have engulfed the entire iris - or perhaps the latter was merely very dark brown.
"I am." The younger man cleared his throat nervously.
"Might I then introduce myself? My name is Amos Cochrane - returning to M------ college, where I study medicine. I'm in my second year there," he added shyly. Something had stirred in the stranger's eyes at the mention of the medical college - interest, and an odd kind of amused pity.
"I, too, am of that profession." The voice was soft, almost feeble, but characterized overall by a profound melancholy. Pretending not to notice the latter two qualities, Cochrane proffered his hand. His interest was growing but so too was a nameless uneasiness.
The traveller's accent was English, and so far as Cochrane's American ear could identify, educated - indeed the stranger's whole demeanour, belying his exotic and sickly appearance, spoke of gentility over mere respectability. He himself was beginning to feel rather a "jay" by comparison.
"And of that college - or shall be. I am Ezra Jennings, newly-appointed lecturer in anatomy."
"Then I am, more than ever, pleased to make your acquaintance."
* * * * *
Looks like young Amos might have found a mentor. What kind of anatomical studies lie ahead? Will there be grave-robbing? Will there be Galvanism? Stay tuned!
Deadwood/The Moonstonecrossover
Gen, so far...
It was but early fall, but the air was crisp of nights - and it was night, after ten o'clock. The man up ahead was shivering despite his heavy traveler's coat. "Ill," thought young Cochrane (he was studying medicine); then, "a foreigner, unused to our climate." A second look had told him the man was.. well, something exotic, anyways - Asiatic, perhaps, or half so. Curiosity piqued, Cochrane wondered if he would be able to strike up a conversation, or if he dared. As he drew closer, however, his first impression of illness returned - the traveller's face was drawn, stretched, even, over the aquiline nose and cheekbones; the dark skin had nonetheless a sallow quality that was not entirely of the lamplight; and though his age seemed below thirty, the wavy dark hair was already greying at the temples.
By now, the student realized, he was himself the subject of observation - his presence was noticed, though he could not tell if it was welcomed. Still, the streets being lonely, a greeting seemed required to indicate he bore the other no ill-will.
"Good evening, sir. Are you waiting for the train to A----?" The traveller turned his large, dark eyes on Cochrane - eyes in which the pupil appeared to have engulfed the entire iris - or perhaps the latter was merely very dark brown.
"I am." The younger man cleared his throat nervously.
"Might I then introduce myself? My name is Amos Cochrane - returning to M------ college, where I study medicine. I'm in my second year there," he added shyly. Something had stirred in the stranger's eyes at the mention of the medical college - interest, and an odd kind of amused pity.
"I, too, am of that profession." The voice was soft, almost feeble, but characterized overall by a profound melancholy. Pretending not to notice the latter two qualities, Cochrane proffered his hand. His interest was growing but so too was a nameless uneasiness.
The traveller's accent was English, and so far as Cochrane's American ear could identify, educated - indeed the stranger's whole demeanour, belying his exotic and sickly appearance, spoke of gentility over mere respectability. He himself was beginning to feel rather a "jay" by comparison.
"And of that college - or shall be. I am Ezra Jennings, newly-appointed lecturer in anatomy."
"Then I am, more than ever, pleased to make your acquaintance."
* * * * *
Looks like young Amos might have found a mentor. What kind of anatomical studies lie ahead? Will there be grave-robbing? Will there be Galvanism? Stay tuned!
