milliways_bar | (no subject)

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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

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You know what makes the observation window better?

Company.

At least, this is the general idea of the yellow beastie that's clambering up to check it out, too.

"Pikachu?"

His expression hovers for a moment between 'oh holy fuck it's ALIVE' and a bemused neutrality.

It settles on the bemusement, after only a few seconds.

"Indeed."

It looks up. "Pi pi pi, pi pikapika chupikapi?"

And, because it is a Polite Beast, it holds out a paw. "Pikachu."

"Truly?"

He touches one gnarled finger to the paw.

"Thank you. You're yellow and... thing shaped."

Hm, he didn't understand the question. Oh well, at least this human's trying.

It smiles. "Pikapi. Chupi, pikapika?" It points at him.

"Desist this nattering."

Dworkin ignores the paw, and looks back at the window.

"You mustn't mumble, little thing."

Blink. Okay, trying again, with more enunciation.

"Chuuu-piiii, piiii-kaaa-piiii-kaaa?"

"I already told you, I don't want anything today, thank you very much, perhaps in the morning. It simply isn't the right weather for it."

Well. This is productive.

It tilts its head. Definitely something being lost in translation.

Time for a different tactic. "Pi pi pi, pikapi chupikapika?" It points out at the End outside. Pretty, isn't it?

"Good morning, Dworkin."

Its a hope, not a statement of fact, and she moderates it even more by offering him a sandwich and a glass of milk. Twin to the other plate and glass on the tray she's taking toward a table.

It takes him a moment to remember her, but when he does he smiles.

"Do you never sit and watch this?"

"Any time I can get here."

She settles down with a good view of the destruction and her smile softens,

"It is...I don't have the words. I'm too limited, it is too big."

That's the sort of thing he likes about her.

She's wise his way.

Dworkin smile widens as he reaches over for the sandwich she brought.

When she saw him, she asked Bar for something that Dworkin would like that Martha could also eat.

So whichever one he takes, its Bar's best guess to his tastes.

She picks hers up and takes a bite while watching the worlds and stars explode.

Ironically, the destruction makes her want to work harder on her own world. Even if its temporary, even if everything will end up out there, she's going to strive.

How else will the world last long enough to be part of this show?

It's good, it's chicken, because everything tastes like chicken and they amuse him rather a lot. At least, something close to chicken. Though perhaps most don't have webbed feet. Not that that shows in the sandwich.

"Are things on your shadow alright?"

"As close as anything is."

She sounds content, if a little bemused,

"I took in a wounded child. It is difficult, but having a puppy seems to be helping her."

"Children are wondrous things when they are not fucking annoying."

He frowns.

"I had---many, though all but one are dead. His sons and daughters are some of them good and the some of them not. The generation after I have not seen enough of to say."