Chapter Text
As always, it's a quiet day at the museum.
In between being called upon for various exhibitions and presentations, Ulysses finds the museum to be the perfect spot to relax. Usually, here it is quaint: it’s anything but busy more often than not. Better yet, it’s a building reserved for everything he has a passion for. Before, he had considered volunteering at the museum, but in the end decided against that idea.
He currently works in a way mostly defined as “freelance”. It’s not perfect, and most definitely infringes upon Ulysses’ sanity more often than not. At this point, he thought he slept more hours than he spent socialising: which was an incredible feat considering Ulysses rarely slept. The occupation of his time wasn't necessarily taxing, but he felt the obligation to put as much effort into it as he could
The spot he frequents is in an animal-centered exhibit. The Mammal Zone, in particular, is almost picturesque. All but a simple wooden bench perched against the wall, directly below a large glass pane, dimming the sunlight. Ahead of him lies various paintings and diagrams of decades past. In concept, it’s nothing much: this charms Ulysses’ on his first visit to the museum, though, and like clockwork, it had basically become his designated sitting area.
Currently, it’s noon. The sun is just overhead, and the gallery is comfortably warm. Ulysses reserves his lunch hour for the usual hobby of choice: writing in his notebook. If that could be called a hobby, at least. Technically, it’s not anything related to the artifacts on display ahead of him. It’s mostly the same old rambles of the thesis he had read the night before.
Maybe it’s lucky, being so engrossed in this leather-bound lot of pages. Nobody approaches Ulysses; he comes to realise that after collating together the individual statistics of his month’s visits to the museum.
(He was terribly bored that time - don’t blame him. Besides, he might as well note it down lest he forget it).
Anyway, what he had noted down only revealed very few outliers. Those who would approach him ended up being newcomers often requesting for Ulysses’ directions. Way-finding had become no problem to him; he had already memorised the museum’s exact layout twice over.
Socialising was never a problem for Ulysses, either, surprisingly. Of course, he could hold the standard conversation almost as well as anyone else. It would be totally incorrect to say he was asocial, he simply just found it more within his interests to spend time by himself. His book was all he needed to stay satiated.
Only today does he do the rare. He excuses himself from his little bench to give some time for the displays ahead of him. The designers had recently renewed parts of this exhibit, so Ulysses promptly inspected the placards. This exhibition doesn’t pertain to his specific interests, it’s an animal zone of the museum, after all. However, nothing interested him more than learning. Neatly arranged are the paintings and diagrams. Primates, birds, even the humble rhinoceros - you name it, there’s likely at least one documented piece on such species.
Nothing had ever solely defined Ulysses’ focal interest in history, nor had it often related to animals and art history. Though, it was definitely engaging, and he had thought such to himself the many times he’d read over the exhibitions here. It looked like the new placards had varied little from the last time he read it, but it was a pleasant break for his brain.
If he had more time, he thinks, art history would certainly be of penchant for him. He had thoroughly examined art censorship under the Soviet Union, and similar art history; but he had never looked past the rather small details of its existence. That felt ironic, didn’t it? That he wanted more time to indulge in a decade past bygone.
His eyes study the delicate strokes and forms of the animals carefully. It intrigues him, how enamoured he becomes at the concept of previous generations seeing these animals different to him now. Whether it be because of evolution, or a lack of technology…
This riveting thought process takes hold of him, and it's only natural he loses most awareness of the surrounding area. Perhaps it’s also the lack of sleep, though he brushes that under the rug for now. Besides, it’s not like it would have mattered if he were alert or not - the museum is almost always empty at this time–
And that’s exactly why Ulysses does not notice a voice calling for him.
…Well, at least, he thinks it’s for him. There’s no mention of his name, but:
“Hey…? Sir?”
It's a masculine voice of medium pitch. It's not anything notable nor familiar, he notes. There’s only one conclusion, he figures. Someone had been trying to get his attention while Ulysses lost himself in thought, and this silence certainly puzzled this someone.
He mentally subtracts 5 points from his score for today and spins around to face the voice.
Considering there was no one else present, there was only one other this voice could belong to. Ulysses craned his neck and immediately discovered that this person was rather freakishly tall. Without realising, he almost instantly compares this man to the giraffe diagram situated just behind him.
(Or, Ulysses was just rather small).
Black hair, purple eyes, sharp features, a comfortable yet stiff posture… and a beauty mark. He donned rather casual attire and yet had a sense of formality to him that Ulysses simply couldn’t describe. He was itching to write these things down, to keep a note of them, but–dammit, he had left his book on the bench.
What was most important about this character, though:
Ulysses didn’t recognise this man.
Well, okay, that’s nothing too unusual. It wouldn’t be the first time a stranger approached him. This was likely the third time this month, as per his routine statistics. In that, he mentally prepares himself to give the stranger a set of instructions. He was almost certain such a man would likely ask for directions to the Earth Hall, which had seemed to be a popular choice of visitors in these past few months.
Which would be… down the hall, to the right, ahead… and… was it the left or right?
Once the stranger had noticed he caught his attention, he cleared his throat and gave a soft smile.
Or was it down the hall, to the right, and up the stairs… and then ahead?
“Would you mind showing me to the Mineral floor? I can’t for the life of me find my way around this enormous place.”
Ulysses paused for a moment, ah… So, he had been wrong about his astute observation. His eyes hover on the man’s nose bridge, avoiding his gaze like his life depended on it. He mentally pulls a lever on his mind’s track, redirecting his train of thought in an attempt to recall the directions towards the Mineral Floor.
God, his hands itched to flick to the page he kept these trivial things listed.
It’s second to him that he laments on the wording of the sentence. Show him around? Not that he was against this, but Ulysses’ found the standard for directions to be verbal instructions.
Regardless, he obliges. It is not too out of his usual routine for it to throw him completely off. It only takes a good few seconds for Ulysses to mull over it. That being the act of guiding this stranger to the other side of the museum. The pros and cons of this encounter were strikingly small, anyway, and time was fine to kill. Maybe he could stop at the cafe along the way and get something to nibble on.
“Ah… Of course,” he gives a tired nod, reaching to push his glasses up. “Is this your first time visiting? Because, well… it’s actually rather simple to find.”
The stranger gives a nod of approval.
“Yes, it is! I felt like I needed some time to relax between work,” He speaks. “So, I wanted to give it a try, hah… I’ve never really been one to stand around and look at displays all day, and I’m even more useless with these maps and directions. You could imagine that this sort of place is a complete puzzle to me…”
Despite his almost perfect composure, he’s fiddling with a pamphlet in his hands, one he likely picked up from the reception desk on the way. Ulysses had certainly studied this pamphlet plenty of times and, he too, agreed that the layout of the map could perplex those who weren’t regulars. So, he had no clear excuse to refuse helping this stranger.
“Okay, follow me.” Ulysses makes sure he has his attention before beginning to walk away. “It won’t be too long; it’s only a couple of galleries away from us right now… if I recall correctly.”
The two walk rather idly beside each other. Ulysses seems to be set on the goal of leading this stranger towards the exhibit, but a nagging voice inside of his head begs to differ. His notebook… Ulysses had left it alone on his bench. He silently prays nobody spotted it.
“So… Are you interested in history? You said it’s your first time visiting.” He breaks the silence. Ulysses stares straight ahead as he talks. “...I’m curious what drove you to relax here, of all places.”
Small talk is far from Ulysses’ favourite pastime. He had spent many more hours dedicated to honing less social skills, so it certainly felt like some sort of purgatory.
Yet, a part of him wanted to at least uphold himself as someone approachable for the few minutes he’d allocate towards this stranger.
“Ah, well, naturally. It’s always intrigued me. Literature-based work was always my strong skill, and history seemed to fit right in…” The more the stranger says, the more Ulysses almost feels a kinship. He, too, was of the scholarly type. “I had always been interested in different parts of history, I suppose. I guess I just didn’t really have the time to research any part of it.”
It remained a fleeting thought, because Ulysses knew he would likely never see this man after this interaction closed. He also observed: this man talks quite a lot for someone who could be far more concise. A part of him was happy about the inevitable brisk nature of this meeting, knowing he could soon return to his quiet nook after doing some good for the community,
What he had also noted was the similar lack of time in the man’s schedule. A bout of sympathy dropped upon him, and Ulysses’ tired eyes only seemed to sting more apparently with the reminder.
“No time, at all?” He pauses. “Huh… A student, I assume? You hold yourself well; I thought you were older–Ah, not that you look old or… something like that.”
The stranger lets a sheepish laugh go, and Ulysses feels blessed at the fact he somehow hadn’t seemed rude. The gallery diverges into a hallway, and the pair continue walking past multiple exhibits and displays. One in particular is the newly reopened Prehistoric gallery: Ulysses thinks he ought to pay it some mind soon.
“My student days are long over, but I studied so hard during those years it still feels like I haven’t left!” He smiles. “I work as a barrister now, so, you know… Time away from my job feels rare. I’m usually reading case studies, preparing for trials or too exhausted to think of anything but sleep.”
“Of course, you’re a lawyer… That sounds right.” Ulysses internalises everything he gathered as if his mind was his notebook.
“Haha, it does?”
“Like I said, you hold yourself well,” Ulysses continues, his brows raising without intention. The hall they walk down is terribly long, and their footsteps act as the only sound echoing off the high ceiling. “Your voice has the cadence of someone who knows their facts well.”
“Oh? Thank you. I suppose you are probably right about that.”
Ulysses doesn’t look to the stranger, but he can hear the subtle abruptness in his polite gratitude. He almost second-guessed it as discomfort, but then realises he had essentially complimented this man.
It wasn’t intentional but… ah, well. This makes up for his blunt speech, he justifies.
“Once we get through this hallway, the mineral exhibit should be right around this corner... It’s actually rather near the entrance, you’ll find, but I know plenty of people struggle to find their way around here.” The pair stand in the middle of a hall. It’s eerily quiet, and the only other sign of life seems to come from the busy room above.
Right. The Earth Hall was upstairs, after all. Ulysses will make sure he remembers that the next time…
Closely following beside Ulysses, the stranger matches his walking speed with ease. “It’s like a maze. I couldn’t work out that map for the life of me…” He comments.
“It certainly is.” Ulysses curtly agreed, “This gallery in specific is great. Honestly, it’s a hidden gem, a diamond in the rough, some might say…”
He cringes at his own pun.
“... Ahem, anyway. Per se, it’s not necessarily as popular as the other collections here... Um, actually, I thought you would ask where the Earth exhibit might be.”
“Earth Hall, right? I’ve heard of it, my father’s favourite exhibit here, actually.” Beside him, the stranger is still holding onto the pamphlet with one hand. He keeps his other hidden behind his back. “It did look interesting, but I figured I’d save it until last. Maybe I’ll ask for your directions on that one too, if you don’t mind.”
Still finding their way down the neverending hall, silence falls upon them again. Ulysses is certainly too tired to find it awkward, and his mind only lingers on the prospect of food. He really should get something to eat after this, he thinks.
Wait–When was the last time he ate? Last night, was it…? Or…
He raises his arms and holds them in front of his chest. It was only becoming more apparent that he was missing his notebook: his hands felt awfully out of place without something to hold on to. Looking at his watch, he makes a note of the time before straying back to the task at hand.
“Do you have a favourite exhibit?” The stranger asks. Ulysses puts his sudden bout of discomfort to the side. “I assume working here has dulled the excitement of the museum somewhat, but I still wonder. Who knows, you might give me a great recommendation.”
He’s really quite the talkative type; Ulysses comes to make that obvious correlation rather late. What he knew thus far confirmed this man fulfilled the archetype of a quiet extrovert personality.
Or–maybe it was a talkative character hiding below the farce of an introvert?
“Oh, well, erm–” Ulysses slightly fumbled, only just realising what the other had assumed, “Where you found me, the Mammal Hall. They recently installed new placards, and I was–checking up on their condition.”
There’s a pause, and he almost runs out of words there. It wasn’t even his favourite; it was just one he was moderately okay with. He once again finds himself fiddling with his glasses. It's now that Ulysses finds the oak floor strikingly interesting, as he fights to avoid any sort of further awkwardness.
It was just his luck. Of course, this stranger had mistaken him for a worker… he looks like he belongs to a museum after all. Whether that be a display or employee is up to you. A sheen of second-hand embarrassment hits Ulysses, and he would almost go red with it if he had less tact. But, he doesn’t correct the man. He would rather just get this over and done with rather than face a disappointing revelation: that being, Ulysses just happened to be someone too interested in every inch and facet of history.
This would actually mark the first time someone mistook him for a worker. Let’s make sure that one gets noted down when he returns to his nifty book.
“Hm, so animals? That’s neat!”
Ulysses clears his throat, unsure of being truthful or to avoid embarrassment. “Yes… Anyway, here we are.”
They make it to the entrance of the Mineral Floor. It’s a simple arched doorway leading into a large square room of various glass displays and pedestals. Inside, the room itself is actually rather dull. Off-white paint and ever so bright lighting. It's certainly enough to give Ulysses a migraine.
“The mineral room is right ahead of us... I’ll have to hurry back now, but do enjoy your time here. If I were you… I’d start on the left and walk clockwise, that way–Erm…, it ensures you see the minerals in chronological order of their approximate date.”
Ulysses recounts these instructions out of courtesy, rather than personal experience. He had read the pamphlet a few times over, and already knew that this was a clear recommendation for this exhibit. In all honesty, he just wanted to get back to his own thing now.
Perhaps he also wanted to satisfy his hunger…
“Thank you very much for your kindness. Have a good day, sir.”
In response, he nods and then turns his back on the stranger. It’s almost instant that he sighs and relieves the tension in his shoulders. Without even thinking, Ulysses is already making his way back through the halls of the museum. He’s far too tired to ponder over the fact the stranger had thought he was an employee.
En route back to his bench, Ulysses makes a stop at the museum’s cafe. It's situated near the stairway to the Earth Hall: which was definitely a marketing tactic. The museum had long since noticed its popularity, and thus the café and souvenir shop would be installed near to it. Really, it was simple logic. Lucky enough, Ulysses just barely misses peak time, so it’s quick that he picks up his food of choice. In one hand is a hot coffee, and the other holds a brown paper bag.
Then finally, he sits down at his bench. He sighs in relief at the sight of his book, untouched and remaining. Before he can indulge in his caffeine and pastry, he takes care in balancing the two to the side. First, he needs to note down everything that has occurred within the last ten minutes or so. Otherwise, he would certainly forget.
This takes only a few minutes, and Ulysses takes a calculated amount of care in noting every single detail. For efficiency reasons, he omits trivial business such as the many complaints Ulysses had about the Mineral Room, as well as the pamphlet. However, it is important he notes down the fact he has eaten, and his new desire to pay a visit to the Prehistoric Hall.
Since he has no name for him, the stranger is noted down as “Lawyer” and nothing more. A stray thought wanders, prodding at Ulysses. He wonders if he had known any of this man’s cases as a barrister. If only he had gotten a last name. This stranger in particular was not even an ounce familiar, so Ulysses had accepted the doubt already.
Eventually, he finishes up note taking for the time being. He sets his notebook to the side and diverts his attention to his food. It’s now that he realises he really is starving to eat something. He’s delicate in taking the pastry out of its bag, and he revels in the texture of it. An egg custard tart: these had been one of his favourite foods for a good while. For Ulysses had a rather weak sense of taste, going alongside his lack of sense of smell. It was most common practice that he would favour foods based on the texture; and these tarts were perfect to him.
The only presence in this hall are the paintings ahead of Ulysses. He stares at the decades old animals with quiet adoration. For the months he has spent as a regular of this museum, he has always found the various bird masterpieces to be the most favourable.
Deep down, a part of Ulysses’ lingers on the stranger he had met prior. He wonders: if he will become a regular; if he will like the exhibit; and whether he will like the recommendations he has given him. It wasn’t clear why he concerned himself with this person he had just met. After all, he had already encapsulated the idea that he would not meet him again. However, it seemed that the human experience was not entirely removed from Ulysses; and he had unconsciously found himself somewhat elevated in mood after having a slightly positive interaction.
Well, he supposes he deserves to feel some sort of relief after being condemned to such second-hand embarrassment. He nibbles at his tart. Who really knew, maybe he will meet the ‘Lawyer’ again? Another thought makes the rounds in his head: maybe Ulysses could find out more about this character as a lawyer? Perhaps, he chalks up, Ulysses may have in fact read about this man’s cases before without realising his appearance. Then again, he has no real idea on how prolific this stranger could be. Why would a grand lawyer visit this humble place, anyway? Better yet, those who work for the Criminal Justice system cannot talk openly about their work. It perplexes him, and a part of Ulysses wants to have a real name for this stranger.
There's a heavy sigh. Ulysses will just have to wait and see what tomorrow brings.