Eli Freeman, ca. 2042 (Half-Life futureverse OC) - somewhere Milliways-ish

[vance_freeman]

"'The common headcrab, Xenogenus calvacaris, was widely thought to be a parasitic lifeform, but further study revealed...'"

The young man who just walked in has dusky skin, a mop of curly red hair, and vivid green eyes, the latter of which are focused entirely on the clipboard full of papers that he's reading as he walks.

"'...is actually a mating instinct mistakenly inflicted upon a human target. By an unfortunate coincidence...'"

The white rat on his shoulder is trying to get his attention. "Eli?"

"'...closely resembles that of a female headcrab in heat. As a result--'"

"Eli."

"Hm?"

"Look up."

He does, and blinks a couple of times at his surroundings. "Oh. How long ago did we walk in here?"

"Eighty-six words ago. You really need to stop pacing around while you're editing."

"C'mon, you know I think better when I'm on my feet..."

"Not well enough to pay attention to where you're going, apparently."

Comments

[boston_bruiser]

"Brian-"

"I know."

The old man in the booth is a far cry from the young man who stormed the Overworld with Gordon Freeman, but he manages well enough. Age has taken its toll - about the only thing that has remained the same is the scar across his nose. Doing a crossword puzzle, like he is now (with a pen, no less), requires his reading glasses, which are perched on the tip of his nose, a lanyard running from the temple tips to the back of his neck. His hair and beard have long since greyed, but there's not a spot of baldness to be seen.

Maia, for her part, looks as spry as she ever did, perched on the table proper.

He looks up at Eli.

"Headhumpers, huh? Bullsquids ain't cooperatin'?"

[vance_freeman]

"Oh, I've got a chapter on bullsquid too," says Eli absently as he tucks his red pen back into his pocket. "Is this seat taken?"

[boston_bruiser]

"Nope," Voodoo says, penning in seven-across. "Maia, let Eli put his stuff down."

Maia complies, scampering off the table and taking a place next to Voodoo.

[vance_freeman]

The moment Eli's clipboard hits the table, the rat-daemon leaps down on top of it and turns to face her human. "Oh, no, you don't. You're not doing any more revisions until you eat something. You haven't had a bite since breakfast."

"You sound like my mother," Eli mutters, rolling his eyes. "Fine, I'll order a sandwich."

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo smirks. "Maia doesn't even bother with the TLC. Watch this. Maia, ten-letter word, two Os, 'not a woodpecker, but...'"

"'Peckerwood'," Maia responds, idly examining her claws. "Or, you know, you could just write in your name. It's not like anyone can tell the difference."

"See? No respect." He motions to a nearby waitrat. "Get this man a sandwich. My tab." He looks to Eli. "You preferential about the kind?"

[vance_freeman]

Eli shrugs.

"Something substantial," says his daemon. "With a lot of protein."

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo turns to the waitrat. "Jerk chicken on wheat. With mozzarella and Swiss. Go on, now, didi."

The waitrat scurries off.

"So," Voodoo says, turning his attention back to the crossword, "what've you got on that clipboard?"

He's guessing it's a textbook, but you know what they say about assumptions.

[vance_freeman]

"The second draft of the definitive text on Xen lifeforms, that's what." Eli grins.

[boston_bruiser]

That gets Voodoo's attention. He looks at Eli over the rim of his glasses. "What makes it so definitive?

[vance_freeman]

"No one's written about it before," explains Eli. "No one whose research is intelligible to the average layperson, anyway. That's what I'm working on."

[boston_bruiser]

"Well, that's good," Voodoo says, penning in four-down. "Comes a time you might be on par with Father Mendel for this sorta shit." He pens in thirteen-across. "How's Hope?"

[vance_freeman]

"She's doing fine," says Eli. "Helping Mom build some factory robots upstate."

[boston_bruiser]

"No shit. Send 'em my best if you see 'em, huh?" he says, penning in another answer. "I'm guessin' that has to do with a re-industrialization? The robots."

[vance_freeman]

"Yeah, we're hoping to get some vehicles built for proper transportation. I mean, teleportation is fine, but it takes a shitload of energy."

Oh, hey, his sandwich is here. Eli takes it and starts eating.

[acts_of_gord]

It seems to be an unwritten law of the end of the Universe that Gordon can't get here from the same time frame as either of his children. Take today, for instance. When Gordon stepped out of the door today with Sati's test tube around his neck, Eli had had just about enough of this whole 'learning to stand up without holding onto anything' nonsense.

He blinks, at least as far as someone can be said to blink when they've only got one eye to close, and quietly shakes his head. Ah, timing.

[vance_freeman]

Eli blinks back.

He says nothing, but his daemon runs her paws over her face. "Not again..."

[acts_of_gord]

Neither time nor the Combine War have been very kind to Gordon's ability to remember to speak at times like this. He just drags his own hand over his remaining eye and signals vaguely to one of the wait-rats, because he's so going to need a drink for this, he just knows it.

[vance_freeman]

Eli's known Gordon for twenty years. He's used to it.

He pulls out a chair from the nearest table and wordlessly offers it to his father.

[acts_of_gord]

"Thank you," says Sati, because Gordon doesn't seem to remember to say it. "Gosh. You're looking... a lot bigger today, Eli."

[vance_freeman]

"What year is it for you?"

[acts_of_gord]

"2022," says Gordon. One hand goes to the scar tissue that pokes out on all sides from beneath the eyepatch. "This is still pretty fresh."

"You?"

[vance_freeman]

"2042."

Eli chews his lip nervously, unsure of what he should say or even what he can say.

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon nods slowly, looking from his son to the young man's daemon and then back again.

"... I'm going to guess you wound up going into science," he says, if only because it seems entirely reasonable when confronted with a white rat to assume that the person accompanying it wants to investigate and experiment.

Either that or they have a deep and abiding love of finding their way through mazes.

[vance_freeman]

Eli nods. "Biology, specifically. With some medical and veterinary practice on the side. We can't really afford to have people completely specialize, yet."

[acts_of_gord]

Of course not. Twenty years isn't anywhere near enough time to establish a complete academic base. Everyone has to be redundant until there's more people to work with.

"You always did like playing with animals," he says, and smiles a little. "How's the studying coming along?"

[vance_freeman]

"I'm working on writing my own book," says Eli. "The definitive guide to Xen lifeforms on Earth. I mean, a lot of it's just taking Dr. Kleiner's old notes and turning them into something intelligible, but..."

[acts_of_gord]

"Original research always starts from someone else's work," Gordon says. "Good for you. That's going to be useful stuff."

[vance_freeman]

Eli ducks his head a little. "Yeah, well... here's hoping."

[acts_of_gord]

"You'll do fine," Gordon says firmly. "I know you will."

After a moment's thought, he adds, "What've you got so far?"

[vance_freeman]

"I'm doing the first set of revisions now," says Eli, nodding to the clipboard he's still got clutched in his hand. "I...could show them to you...?"

His daemon shakes his head firmly. "Uh-huh. Forget it, Eli. We're taking enough chances with the space-time continuum as it is."

[acts_of_gord]

"It's all right," Gordon says. "I can wait."

He's seen space torn up plenty. He doesn't need to see it happen to time as well.

"I'm just glad you found something that makes you happy."

[vance_freeman]

That prompts a small smile from Eli.

"Thank you."

[acts_of_gord]

There's other things he'd love to ask, but-

Well. Time.

Blasted Milliways.

"Can I get you something to drink?" he finally says. That, at least, is a safe question.

[vance_freeman]

"You can get him something to eat," says his daemon. "He hasn't had a bite since eight o'clock this morning."

"Śarda--!"

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon just chuckles quietly; he knows the feeling. "Carbohydrates, then," he says. "Rösti okay?"

[vance_freeman]

"Uh, sure, if you're offering..." Eli shrugs.

Śarda rolls her eyes. "I swear, he'd forget all his basic bodily functions if not for me."

[acts_of_gord]

"He comes by it honestly," observes Sati. "Although his father at least has the decency to be able to eat at any hour of the day or night, once he remembers."

Gordon rolls his eyes, but it's hard to argue with the truth. At least the rats bring the stuff quickly; Gordon pushes one of the plates across the table towards his son. "I know they're not much, but they remind me of where I did some of my studies before Black Mesa," he says. "Always was fond of this kind of thing."

[vance_freeman]

"Y'know, Dad, I have heard this story before," says Eli gently.

[acts_of_gord]

"Not in my time you haven't," says Gordon, although he's got a bit of a smile to his expression. "When I left the Greenbrier, you were trying to take apart your sister's teething ring because you didn't feel like standing up any more."

[vance_freeman]

"...and I'll bet she was just thrilled about that."

[acts_of_gord]

"She doesn't know yet," Gordon says. "Six months old and you already know the value of discretion. That's kind of impressive."

[vance_freeman]

"What, she didn't have Kintaro spying on me?"

Like he did all the damn time when they were growing up? (Not that Eli can claim the moral high ground, of course.)

[acts_of_gord]

"He's a raven right now." Gordon shrugs. "There were shiny things."

It happens.

"I'm sure he'll find out soon enough. You're both six months old. If either of you could scheme much better than that, I'd be worried."

[vance_freeman]

Eli stares at his father for a moment.

Then bursts into a full-throated evil laugh.

Oh, Gordon, you have no idea what's in store for you over the next two decades.

[acts_of_gord]

■__O




(It would be o___O for someone else.)

[vance_freeman]

"...I'd like to say he's just messing with you," says Śarda. "But, yeah, you're pretty much screwed."

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon sighs, reaching up for a moment to touch the test tube around his neck. "Well, at least I'll have an idea of what's coming," he says resignedly. "It's not going to help, though, is it."

[vance_freeman]

"Prrrrobably not," says Śarda. "Sorry."

[acts_of_gord]

And there are two of them.

The next waitrat who passes is getting an order for beer.