(Untitled)

[all_in_plato]

Professor Digory Kirke is sitting in an armchair by the fire, writing a letter on heavy paper with a fountain pen.

He would be delighted to set aside his letter for a good conversation.

Comments

[milkbonesoldier]

It's debatable whether conversation with Harry Wells ever really counts as 'good', given that he tends to blister the paint off the wall without even trying. On the other hand, he is giving the fountain pen an interested look. You never know how these things go.

[all_in_plato]

The Professor, noticing Wells' scrutiny, looks up. The pen (a Black Summit S175 fountain pen) pauses in his hand.

"Good evening," says Professor Kirke, in perfect Received Pronunciation.

[milkbonesoldier]

"Evening," says Wells with a bit of a smile. "Didn't mean t'intrude- I was looking at-" He indicates the pen. "Looks a bit like the one a fellow I work with favours."

His own accent is... well, when you try to polish the edges off Islington's London muddle by splicing in some of the sounds of your Yorkshire neighbours... yeah.

[all_in_plato]

"You're welcome to look," Kirke passes the pen to the other man, point turned away from him. "It's quite ordinary, really. My name is Digory Kirke, by the way."