Sunday Evening Hours

[death_n_binky]

*DEATH is still sitting at the desk as the evening wears on, reading his books and scribbling his notes. Perodically he experiments with various jazz hands techniques. He is beginning to wonder where the Rat had gotten himself too. He certainly had something to learn about efficiency, though, truthfully, he wasn't terribly bad. For a skeletal rat

Comments

[susan_death_]

Susan bounces into the clinic, pausing and glancing around. "Grandfather!" she says brightly. "There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you."

She's uncharacteristically chirpy tonight.

[death_n_binky]

HELLO SUSAN. HOW HAVE YOU BEEN.

((OOC: This will likely have to be slowtimed... its past time for bed and, once the chapter in this book is done, I am so there.))

[susan_death_]

"Me? Oh, wonderful. Just fine. And you? I heard you're working on the pageant?"

((OOC: NP. She just wants to borrow Binky, and talk about sapient pearwood... maybe?))

[death_n_binky]

*DEATH nods, doing his jazz hands absentmindedly*

AS THE DEAN'S ASSISTANT, I AM NEEDED TO DIRECT THE CHOREOGRAPHY. THE PERFORMANCE WILL BE DONE IN FOSSE STYLE WITH, I THINK, A SPECIAL TRIBUTE TO THE UNDEAD.