It's a cozy but oddly sparse space of a room, walls of stone and floors of old wood, a simple single bed and a small fireplace against one wall flanked by two plush red chairs with gnarled golden metal framing twisting the arms and legs into something rather antique and posh as well as comfortable. The desk near the center of the room is stacked with books upon books, pages and bottles and quills and drawings scattered to and fro. Bookcases line one of the walls, though they seem rather bare, now housing only the odd trinket or rolls of parchment tied off with string. Two oddly shaped snowmen sit on one of the shelves. A small cauldron sits close to the fireplace, though it looks like it's been relatively untouched for a while. Near the window is a wooden cubby with red cushions to lounge, and several golden clocks dot the space at the mantle, on the desks, at the windows... and alongside the window sits not only a celestial globe, but a telescope as well. In the corner opposite his desk sits a baby grand piano.
Solomon's finally migrated from his bed by later in the week, his normal outfit completely discarded in favor of a very loose chevron-knit sweater of a warm grey and a straight legged soft black pant, his neck exposed enough to show parts of the magical seals that dot his skin. He's still a little on the pale side from his seat next to the fireplace, a book in his lap and pen in his hand, writing slowly.
As Shinji slips into the room, he glances up with a tired smile, slipping the gold-flowered pen behind one ear]
no subject
Come in. It's open.
[The door is, in fact, still completely unlocked.
It's a cozy but oddly sparse space of a room, walls of stone and floors of old wood, a simple single bed and a small fireplace against one wall flanked by two plush red chairs with gnarled golden metal framing twisting the arms and legs into something rather antique and posh as well as comfortable. The desk near the center of the room is stacked with books upon books, pages and bottles and quills and drawings scattered to and fro. Bookcases line one of the walls, though they seem rather bare, now housing only the odd trinket or rolls of parchment tied off with string. Two oddly shaped snowmen sit on one of the shelves. A small cauldron sits close to the fireplace, though it looks like it's been relatively untouched for a while. Near the window is a wooden cubby with red cushions to lounge, and several golden clocks dot the space at the mantle, on the desks, at the windows... and alongside the window sits not only a celestial globe, but a telescope as well. In the corner opposite his desk sits a baby grand piano.
Solomon's finally migrated from his bed by later in the week, his normal outfit completely discarded in favor of a very loose chevron-knit sweater of a warm grey and a straight legged soft black pant, his neck exposed enough to show parts of the magical seals that dot his skin. He's still a little on the pale side from his seat next to the fireplace, a book in his lap and pen in his hand, writing slowly.
As Shinji slips into the room, he glances up with a tired smile, slipping the gold-flowered pen behind one ear]
What can I do for you, Aragaki-kun?