As he's wont to do, Nikola had been holed up in his lab, forgetting about everything around him as he worked on some fascinating new theory or other
( Read more... )
Gwendal had been hiding. His remembered outburst, be it dream or real (and it felt horrifically real) of December 13 caused him to not want to run the risk of bumping into Mikami again.
Outside should be relatively safe. There were more escape routes, at least.
He watched the man performing his unusual custom, wondering what its purpose was. The pigeons were obviously not messengers, so what was the point of feeding them?
After a few moments, he approached cautiously. "Is there a purpose to feeding these creatures?" he asked, perhaps a bit more stiffly than he realized.
Nikola looked up at the voice and smiled softly. A few of the birds startle at the voice and fly away, but others are too focused on their food to notice.
"It depends on how you define purpose, I suppose. Is there some greater use or end that I am achieving through the act? No, it's fair to say there is not. I simply enjoy doing it. I find it relaxing, which is purpose enough for me."
Gwendal could identify. He had his knitting, after all. He nodded. "That would be purpose enough," he said, his voice relaxing some. "What is it that you do, that you need this form of relaxation?" he asked.
"It is difficult to describe in words that you would understand. I don't mean that to be condescending. I'm simply from far enough in humanity's future that many of the concepts are many, many years from even being theorized, much less developed and exploited, as I am doing."
It's highly unlikely that she knows the right buttons to push to offend Tesla.
"You either have excellent hearing, or a gift for hyperbole. Perhaps I'll continue a bit longer. I expect if you leave for your room now, they will have dispersed by the time you reach it."
Comments 60
Outside should be relatively safe. There were more escape routes, at least.
He watched the man performing his unusual custom, wondering what its purpose was. The pigeons were obviously not messengers, so what was the point of feeding them?
After a few moments, he approached cautiously. "Is there a purpose to feeding these creatures?" he asked, perhaps a bit more stiffly than he realized.
Reply
"It depends on how you define purpose, I suppose. Is there some greater use or end that I am achieving through the act? No, it's fair to say there is not. I simply enjoy doing it. I find it relaxing, which is purpose enough for me."
Reply
Reply
"It is difficult to describe in words that you would understand. I don't mean that to be condescending. I'm simply from far enough in humanity's future that many of the concepts are many, many years from even being theorized, much less developed and exploited, as I am doing."
Reply
For Ryuk, this was generous.
Said Ryuk was hovering over the inventor's head.
Reply
"Good day," he greeted, nonplussed by the hovering.
Reply
"I gave them some apple."
Reply
Reply
'Where'd you get it, some eighties porno?'
Reply
"Quite a bit earlier than that, I'm afraid. This was quite the look in the 1890s, though."
Reply
'Yeah. I don't care. The pigeons are annoying me, I can hear them from my window.' Lie. 'Stop feeding them.'
Reply
"You either have excellent hearing, or a gift for hyperbole. Perhaps I'll continue a bit longer. I expect if you leave for your room now, they will have dispersed by the time you reach it."
Reply
Leave a comment