(no subject)

[pointed-spoon.livejournal.com]

Dworkin is sitting in a booth, staring blankly at nothing in particular. He gives the distinct impression of someone who is waiting for something.

Perhaps 'someone.'

Perhaps you?

Comments

[pointed-spoon.livejournal.com]

"Poor Brand," Dworkin murmurs, and finally sips his wine.

"Be careful, poor Brand. You're forgetting how to see."

[hopeless-son.livejournal.com]

"And what is it that I have forgotten to see, old man? What the family thinks of me? No. I have seen it all and it shall change or be wiped out." He was trying his best not to scream, not to lose his cool. It was hard.

In his hand the glass started to crack a little. "You always liked Fiona better. Fiona this, Fiona that. Bleys even was more favored and he did hardly anything." Swallowing hard he stared at the old man with a near pleading look shining in his eyes. "What did I ever do, Grandfather. What?"

[pointed-spoon.livejournal.com]

"This."

He frowns.

"You put me mad, Brand, and you don't see the beauty in the order, the horror in the chaos."

[hopeless-son.livejournal.com]

"No I saw it." Looking away from Dworkin he scrunched his face up. "I saw it and I saw what the plan was. Someone helped me see that." Without even thinking the spikard ring on his right hand was twisted about with his thumb. "I'll make things right. They way they should be."

[pointed-spoon.livejournal.com]

He shakes his head, in mute denial.

[hopeless-son.livejournal.com]

Random would be disappointed in this first meeting.

Setting the glass down the Prince started to stand. "I assume this will be our last meeting till the end, Grandfather, and there will be an end. Out with the old..in with the new is the proper saying I believe."

Then with the slight movement of a finger the bottle moved closer to where Dworkin sat. "Consider it a late birthday present."

[pointed-spoon.livejournal.com]

"Wrong again. I'll see you again, Brand."

He takes another sip of his wine.

"Until I remember what time I'm from, I'm a guest here. Oh well."

[hopeless-son.livejournal.com]

Brand....actually hesitates for a moment. He licks his lips torn between wanting to leave and wanting to get one thing out. When he does manage it, it's almost like a fight between mind and mouth. "There is..a youth here. Look for him. Lucas."

Then throwing his hand up in disgust he turns on his heel intent on stalking away.