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PANIC
Unlike the past few times he's been here, Professor Yana doesn't simply wander in, looking mildly bemused or curious or any of those things he does so well. Oh no, this time, he rushes in, all clipped, panicky steps, voicing a constant stream of alarmed, subvocal exclamations as he bats at a spark eating into one of his billowing sleeves. He's ( Read more... ) -
they don't have cigarettes in the year 100 trillion
This time, sitting in one of the Nexus chairs, Professor Yana is not empty-handed. He has no doohickies or thingymabobs, though, no beeping or flashing lights, but instead, a cigarette. A filtered cigarette, wrapped in white and orange paper, as ordinary as you like. The Professor, however, regards it as if it's something in a different language ( Read more... ) -
something a little like memory
Professor Yana's in the Nexus again. He's been here off and on since last we saw him, flitting about with handheld doohickies that flash and spin and beep, and frowning at them a fair amount in the process. Unfortunately, not much about the apparently paradoxical nature of the place has registered with his equipment, from the far, far future ( Read more... )