milliways_bar | (no subject)

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You know those people who only appear when you least want them? They're gone for ages and then wham-bam back again?

Dworkin is sipping wine, sitting at the Observation Window, watching the destruction outside.

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"Ah." That explains it, then.

"Have you ever been examined scientifically?"

"No."

He rolls his eyes.

"Would you mind being examined-" she breaks off. No going back to the lab yet. Drat.

"If I meet you again someday, can I run some tests on you?" It's still consent if they're a bit mental, right?

"No."

This time with the faintest edge of annoyance.

"I may be mad, but I am still sharper than any instruments of yours, little Poppy."

"Can't blame a girl for trying." Washuu's a little sheepish, but not much.

"I don't know about that, old man, and what's with the Poppy thing?"

He just grins at her.

"Give an old man his secrets."

"I guess that's fair enough. I've got my share of secrets, I don't need yours too."

Washuu smirks at him cheekily. "So what do you do when you're not being cryptic, Dworkin? Or is that an all-day thing?"

"I write."

This is true and untrue.

"And I draw."

"Definitely an all-day thing," Washuu mutters.

Then, more loudly, "What do you write? Poetry? Prose? Prophecy? Pop music?"

Interesting question.

"A suggestive biography."

She'll let the possible entendre pass.

"Suggesting events?" This is actually a fun game.

"Yes."

Direct.

"And these events are likely to happen?"

"Yes."

She's hitting home runs here.

So far so good, now for the big one.

"Are they more likely to happen because you write them down?"

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