#yeah baby....u whip out that protractor

[recitedemise]

I am so deeply fond of the thought of Gale being an astronomy professor in a mundane, non-magical verse (and in magical verses, he would still have the doctorate). To be very, very, very specific, however, his true and absolute passion lies in astrometry — or the study of the position and motion of stars. True to his canon flavor, Gale, never content to remain in the constrained and finite (as we know), finds himself nursing a fierce love for the cosmos. Even in his youth, he'd proved a knack for it, too, being something of a mathematics genius as all his other peers floundered (like me). Growing up, he continued nurturing that love, watching the stars every night and asking for a telescope on only his fifth Christmas. What was once but a doe-eyed fancy for what twinkled exploded into academic thoeries of galaxies beyond us. Gale, intrigued with the stars, the suns, and every celestial body in between, eventually grew to adulthood to be a voice in the field. He becomes a pillar within astronomy, studying photographs, charts, and applying what he can to unveil undiscovered bodies. It's like looking for a needle in a massive, mind-bogglingly endless haystack, but the thrill of the unknown keeps him eagerly searching.

In his office, you can expect to see star charts, a chalkboard always well scribbled over with the most convoluted math, coffee (multiple), and to tickle his brain, a scratchy vinyl playing Joy Division, Madonna, or the recorded waves off a planet.

Gale, and I say this carnally, is so genuinely intimidatingly brilliant.