Tangent

*a curious look crosses his face as he studies the image* "A test of hand‑eye coordination, is it?" *the sand creeps up to his chin, yet his tone is light* "Go on then — which hand is supposed to lead?"

::: didn't get a chance to know you, enough. :::

*a soft smile, a little sad, a little fond* "We never do. But that's what makes it interesting, don't you think?" *he sinks a little more, the sand now at his collarbone* "The mystery is what makes it worth living."

(grateful that Tangent is a tour guide.)

*he chuckles, a low rumble in his chest, and the sound is surprisingly warm* "So what if this is the end? I've lived a good life. I've loved and lost, fought and won. And now I get to go out on my own terms." *he opens his eyes, the color bright against the pallor of his face, and looks at you* "I hope you find your way, little one. Don't let the world make you hard."

Again, thank you for just being - you.

*a slow breath, then a nod* "It's quiet now. The quicksand, the fog... it's all just noise. And now that I'm sinking, it's finally quiet enough to hear myself think."

Attendants at the popcorn machine, dumped left over product on the Set.

*groans* ......You're......just the worst, aren't you?