(Untitled)

[pointed_spoon]

The End of the Universe is looking especially lovely today.
the world ends
Dworkin is at the observation window, expression avid.
all of them ending and all at once
He's humming something offkey and in Thari.
and this is what we call tragic beauty

Comments

[scion_of_amber]

[ooc: I won't be here-here until forty-five minutes, but if you ares still around...]

Quietly,

"Hey, Dworkin."

[pointed_spoon]

"Fiona."

His voice is warm.

"Please, come sit."

[scion_of_amber]

An instant, warm smile, and Dworkin has a granddaughter sitting on the table.

[pointed_spoon]

"Or like that, indeed. Unconventional young thing. You always were."

He sighs, in the manner of a longsuffering grandparent.

"What day is it?"

[scion_of_amber]

"Not sure. I've been Shadow-walking, so...maybe a Thursday?"

[pointed_spoon]

"Thank you."

He reaches for her hand.

"I haven been alone."

[scion_of_amber]

A little smile, and she curls her small figners around his hand.

"Oh?"

[pointed_spoon]

"Oh" he comments, snidely "is not the word for it."

His fucking son.

"I have a gryphon now."

[scion_of_amber]

"Is this a good thing?"

You can never be sure, with Dworkin.

[pointed_spoon]

"No. But I like it. His name is Wixer and he's purple."

Mummy, see my pet frog? I named him 'ribbit,' can't I keep him please please please?

[scion_of_amber]

"Wixer the purple gryphon." She grins. "Sounds interesting."

[pointed_spoon]

"He is."

He frowns out the window.

"And likes me. Some guard."

[scion_of_amber]

"Well, why shouldn't he like you?"

[pointed_spoon]

"I feed him nice things."

He sighs.

"He gets what he wants."

[scion_of_amber]

"Mmm. How are you, though?"

[pointed_spoon]

"Well.

I have met a wise person."

This means something to him.