dr. ian malcolm

a) will be back soon and

How stupid could she be to actually bring up a terrible experience? Apparently very. She’s mentally facepalming at her idiocy, hoping that the other would be so kind as to forgive her. Was charming something that was apart of her? She highly doubted it but that was beside the point, her mind was getting off track and she was thanking her lucky stars he hadn’t been talking while she was lost in thought. People who saw the news could believe what they wished but she so desperately wished they believed her, that they believed the message she was trying so hard to spread. “I believe it’s best to let them lie for now, I wouldn’t want to stir anything unwanted up. Well then Ian…” Taking a sip from her coffee, she curses as the hot liquid is swallowed. It’ll most definitely begin to warm her up or burn her throat, either one.

The brightest of smiles when Hammond is further brought up, wishing desperately that she could have met him. A belly laugh escapes her, short lived and luckily not loud but it’s there all the less. “You are the first person I’ve heard talk about him like that, though the only other person I’ve heard talk about him is Lockwood. Because of all the things he wanted for the park?”

The chaotician tactfully ignored her burning her tongue, but continue to cool his own coffee with little puffs of breath as he listened to her speak.

“People who pretend he was a monster don’t understand what happened on Nublar,” he said rather bluntly, “But people who pretend he was a saint are deluding themselves.”

“Coffee is fine,” he replied quietly, flexing his fingers before grabbing the mug again. He took another sip and watched his host cooking. “Ever had kippers?”

Robert began to hum softly to himself as he did his morning arm stretches. It helped to distract from the pain of his muscles pulling and working. Between exercises, he took sips of his own coffee. “Ah. Burned my tongue,” he muttered, sticking it out briefly to let it cool.

The way his kitchen was arranged allowed Ian to watch his guest’s stretches, the sight causing the corners of his mouth to quirk upwards. He broke each of the eggs neatly into the pan, not wanting to get any egg white anywhere, and watched with satisfaction as they began to fry inside the bread.

She had wished that they weren’t negative but they had such different views on the dinosaurs that it made it difficult, perhaps difficult to get by. He had his points and she had hers, she would respect his if he would respect hers. It wasn’t hard to notice how his expression changed but she stays as she is, calm and collected. Should she reassure him? “Please call me Claire. No you don’t, I’ve heard multiple stories about back then and honestly even with our differing viewpoints, I can understand.” Claire would continue to fight for them, she always would. “Thanks for the coffee.” The redhead certainly wasn’t going to dash, she would stay and make conversation with him if he wished for that. With a hand, Claire gently reaches for her cup of coffee. There’s slight silence for a moment or two, raising an eyebrow in question. “I don’t want to tire you down with questions or anything but I’m curious, what was Hammond like?”

In some ways things weren’t as easy for Ian. He was so set in his beliefs he found them difficult to look past, especially considering the part the woman—now smiling so charmingly at him—had played in resurrecting the memory of what was undoubtedly the worst thing he could claim to have experienced. No, he couldn’t look past that fact, but he could give her the benefit of the doubt. Set in his beliefs as he was, Ian also knew how much they’d changed over the years. She was so young, and she was trying, wasn’t she? At least that was what the news had led him to believe.

“Right. Claire. Well, I’m sure there are plenty of dusty old bones for us to dig up—or we could just let them lie. For now. You’re, ah, welcome to call me Ian, if you feel so inclined.”

He chuckled, removing the plastic lid to his cup and blowing into it to cool the beverage. A few moments passed as he watched tiny ripples move across the black surface, then he glanced up to meet Claire’s inquisitive gaze. Without knowing it, she had struck on a subject the mathematician could go on about for hours (not that that was a particularly rare occurrence).

En Dwi stopped in his tracks and looked innocently at Ian. “Ohhh… I said that? I don’t remember.” And then he hurried to put it on, mumbling; “Your planet, it’s too cold! I’m freezing!!”

“Black is fine.” He wasn’t much for coffee at all, but he wasn’t going to refuse his host’s hospitality. What he really needed was something to settle his stomach, but he wasn’t one to complain about food, no matter what it was.

"Another thing we have in common,” Ian quipped, as he pushed the undiluted beverage towards his guest, “Whatever next?”

He was nice and that was always a good starting point, that was always a good sign. Scrunching up her nose, another chuckle escapes her lips. “So I’ve heard. Cappuccino with extra shots, I always need all the energy I can get.” Following his gesture to the options displayed, there were so many choices that it was making her head spin. A bright and soft smile graces her features, waving her hand in the air. “It’s fine, really it is. We have met; you’re right. I’m Claire. Claire Dearing.”

“Sure, if you’re up for it,” he said, looking immensely grateful. “I can’t drink with you anymore. I only nipped down the bar for one or two and now I feel like a lorry hit me.”

She can’t help but laugh, laugh at herself and at this situation. Claire was honored to be in the doctor’s presence, she had heard very good things over the years ( including the obvious incidents at Jurassic Park but that was far from good. ) “I usually love the freezing weather but not today. That sounds very sensible indeed.” Shrugging the leather jacket off, she offers it back to Malcolm. “Sorry if it kind of smells of perfume…”