ArchivedLogs:Common Interests

Common Interests
Dramatis Personae Doug, Felix	2013-05-08 Doug finally meets the guy across the hall.
Location <NYC> Village Lofts - Laundry Room
This laundry room looks as many laundry rooms do. Fluorescent lights a little too-bright, linoleum floor is chipping, lint-dusty and occasionally stained sticky with spilled detergent. A broom and dustpan in one corner encourage its users to contribute to its cleanliness, which they do with intermittent conscientiousness. A bank of quarter-fed washing machines along the wall have clear windows on their doors to watch the laundry spin and turn within. On the wall opposite, a matching row of dryers near-perpetually has at least one out of commission. A rickety folding table and chairs at one side provide a place to sit and wait. There's a dispenser on the wall that will provide single-use sized packets of detergent or fabric softener, but it is hit or miss whether it is ever in stock. Wednesday nights are not very exciting, in the grand scheme of things. Not usually. Around the Village Lofts, it's not all that different. The lobby is quiet, empty save for a discarded newspaper on the couch there. There's music coming from somewhere; tinny pop that is clearly intended to add some cheer. It's so quiet, though, that the effect is mildly creepy. In the laundry room, Doug seems unaware of the creepy quiet. He is sitting in one of the plastic chairs there, a tablet PC held in one hand while his fingers skim over the screen lightly. If the empty laundry basket at his feet wasn't indication enough of his reasons for being there, the fact that he's dressed in a too-tight green t-shirt with a yellow arrowhead on the chest and a pair of basketball shorts with flip-flops should be a big tip-off. Felix walks in from the hallway carrying a laundry basket of folded clothes. He does not not look surprised to see another person in the laundry room despite the mild creepy feeling. "Hmmm", can be heard very softly as he pauses briefly at the doorway and looks at Doug then cocks his head slightly. Continuing on to the machines, he sets down his basket and begins to clean off the tops of the machines he plans to use. Doug looks up when the sound of someone approaching reaches him, and he tilts his head in a mirror of Felix's gesture, although he offers a crinkle of his eyes in recognition. "Oh, hey. You're the guy across the hall," he says when the other man gets closer. "505, right?" His fingers continue to skim over the screen of the tablet, although they've slowed considerably. "I don't think we've met. I'm Doug Ramsey." His fingers leave the screen, and he stands, extending a hand. "I'm in 503." Felix stops cleaning the machines for a moment. "Felix Kuznetsov", he replies with a light but obvious Russian accent as he accepts the gesture to shake hands. "Yes, 505." It does not look like he was expecting the greeting, though he it is warmly welcomed and returned. "I am not so keen on doing my laundry, the machines are always so dirty." he adds, half returning to cleaning again, but still paying attention to Doug and the conversation. "Nice to meet you." Doug's smile is equally warm, and he squeezes the older man's hand briefly before he withdraws his hand. "It's not so bad," he says. "Mister Papadapoulis does a pretty good job of keeping them clean, but I think it's just the city water." He chuckles, and bends to pick up a tub of oxygen-based cleaner. The kind advertised on TV. "This stuff really works, though. Keeps that crap from getting on your clothes." He sets it on the chair next to the one he was occupying, and reclaims that one for his own. "You're welcome to use it, if you want." His finger skim over the screen of the tablet, powering it down. "You go to Columbia, right?" Felix , now finished with cleaning off the machines, looks down at the bottle that has been offered to him and picks it up. "Yes, Columbia for the last 9 years. I just finished my Doctorate degree there in fact." he say as he looks at the labels on the bottle. "The city water leaves much to be desired." he adds in agreement with Doug. Turning around he sets down the bottle, clearly intending to take up the offer to use it. "You are a student there?" "Just finishing up my first semester," Doug confirms with a nod. He stretches his legs out in front of him, dangling one flip-flop from a toe. "Computer Science, with a Business minor." His eyebrows lift, and the corners of his mouth tug down briefly. "Doctorate, huh?" The teenager sounds mildly impressed. "What's your field?" Felix smiles at the mention of Computer Science. "That was my undergraduate degree as well." he replies, putting quarters into the machines to start them up. "My Doctorate is in Theoretical Mathematics, with a Masters in Statistics." he adds, now focusing more on the conversation and less on the laundry task. Obviously the mention of computers is more interesting to him than finishing the menial task. "It took a lot of work to get to the end, and I am hoping all that work will pay off some day... soon." "Oh, hey, really?" Doug perks up a bit at this further bit of commonality, and his flip-flop is shimmied back on to his foot. "That's cool. Although, I don't know that I could do theoretical mathematics, or statistics. I could probably write a program that understood them, but..." he wobbles a hand in the air. "I don't know that I could /discuss/ them. Y'know?" He chuckles. "Not that I don't like math. Hard to be into computers and not like it. Still." He chews his lip, his brow furrowing thoughtfully. "What do you do with that, anyway?" Felix starts towards one of the chairs, then pauses as the water in the machine turns on. It looks as though he would have completely ignored his laundry if not for the noise behind him. "Well...", he starts, turning around to hurriedly put his clothes into the washers. "It is especially useful when writing Artificial Intelligence routines, or black-box programs that can track the stock market accurately, or custom algorithms for scientific applications." he adds excitedly, as he slips into a nearby chair completely forgetting to add the oxygen cleaner to the wash. 'Artificial Intelligence routines' is enough to get Doug's full attention, and he sits upright. "No shit?" He blinks a couple of times, and reaches for his tablet. "I didn't know that. I better put that in my course list, then." He grins as he powers it back up, and his fingers skim over the screen as soon as it lights up. "I'm hoping to start my own software company," he says. "Mostly gaming, but other stuff, too. If I can get a sweet AI interface, I could rock the bejeezus out of the gaming industry." He looks up as Felix heads back for the machines, and lifts his eyebrows. "Speaking of which, did you get to that Doom Expo a couple of weeks ago? 'Cause he had some /insane/ robot tech there." Felix leans forward, as if committing his attention to the conversation. There is another brief pause as he watches with obvious curiosity as Doug moves his fingers across the computer. "Yes, the best routines can be written using advanced mathematical theory." he responds with a grin, implying this is from experience and not just from some book. "But, you probably will not find those classes at the undergraduate level." he adds with a shrug of the shoulders. "It will... may, take a few more years for you to learn that." he notes, as if he noticed something just then that changed his mind. "No, I did not make it to the Expo, I was defending my Doctoral Thesis at that time." Doug nods. "I'm just making a note of it. I like to keep track of what courses will help me best in achieving my goals, so I can work them in to the predetermined course requirements." He grins, and slides his hand across the screen, powering it down without...actually using the power down function. Then he's setting it aside. "Probably a good thing, in the long run. It wasn't as showy as the Stark Expo, but the tech was probably on a par with Stark's." He leans back again, and goes back to dangling that flip-flop. "So what's the plan now that you're Doctor Kuznetsov?" Felix stares at the computer in Doug's hands for a moment, very interested in something that is happening there. He frowns slightly as the conversation drifts Doom and then to Stark. "Well, I may teach at one of the local universities." he says, obviously deflecting the conversation away from where it was headed. "I am not so keen on working for corporate or government entities." he adds with an obvious scowl. "The right job will find me eventually." "Teaching's good," Doug says, grinning widely. "Hey, if you stay on at Columbia, maybe you'll be /my/ professor one day." He lifts his eyebrows. "I'm teaching myself to bake, and I am totally not above offering cookies for good grades." There's a tease in his voice, and he stands when one of the dryers buzzes. "But, I can't knock the corporate or government entities, either, if I'm being honest. They've pretty much been my family's bread and butter." He opens the dryer, and checks the clothes inside. It's mostly jeans and t-shirts, by the look of it. "And I have corporate dreams." He seems dissatisfied with the dryness of the clothes, and shuts it again, fishing in a pocket for quarters. "I'm probably the least qualified for unbiased opinion, I guess." Felix relaxes back, as if realizing he was starting to tense up. Taking a deep breath, "I would be happy to teach at Columbia if they would have me. It is a great college.", he says without trying to hide the fact that he is biased towards the college. "Corporate structure is not what I have a problem with, it is the greed, corruption, and political crap that gets me." he adds, keeping himself calm this time. "I applaud and even encourage you to seek out your goals and dreams, just be cautions of the many demons." he adds with genuine sincerity in his voice. That last statement is exactly what a teacher would say, which makes the observation about teaching spot on. "Yeah, I really like it," Doug says of Columbia, dropping quarters in the machine. He nods along with Felix's comments, and scrunches his nose as he comes back to his seat. "Oh, you don't have to tell me," he says. "I grew up around those people. I know how ugly they really are." He rolls his eyes. "It's even worse than you think. All that stuff spills into their personal lives, too. Makes those fundraisers a real joy, sometimes." He tilts his head, regarding the other man. "So did you come to America just to attend Columbia? I noticed a trace of an accent, there." Felix glances over to the washers where is laundry is still in the wash cycle. "Damn, I forgot to use the oxy stuff." he notes, shrugging it off as if this has happened in similar fashion before. "Actually, I know quite well." looking back to Doug, he adds, "This is exactly why I left Russia. But, I realize now it is everywhere." There is a long pause as he appears to be reminiscing, perhaps about something in Russia since he just mentioned it. "So, yes, to attend college and get away, with no plans to return." Doug grins. "It's as good a reason as any to come here, I guess," he drawls, and stretches lightly. "Sorry that corruption is a global phenomenon." He reaches into his pocket as he approaches the chairs, and frowns. "Oh, crap. I forgot my phone." He glances at the dryer, and is clearly weighing a decision before he pulls it open and grabs the clothes. "I need to get upstairs," he says apologetically. "I'm waiting on a call, and..." he piles the clothes into his basket, and throws his tablet on top of the lot. "Feel free to stop by, though, if you want to hang out." He grins, and lifts a hand as he scurries towards the door. "See you around!" And then he's gone, the soft chime of the elevator a moment confirming it.