[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.
He slips back into his room with a gesture to the chairs with on hand, bringing the flowers to his face with the other. Ah, he wonders if the scent is pleasant.]
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After a moment, however, he mutters: ]
... As a reward for something or other. But I thought - they were really nice. [ and even more low is: ] Sorry...
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He chuckles lightly, holding out his hand to take the flowers from Ginger.]
Well, now. Why in the world are you apologizing?
Here. Did you want to come in for a minute?
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[ He doesn't know whether it's depressing or a relief that Solomon doesn't know. Why not both? Carrying on his indecisive theme. ]
...? Uh, okay. What are we doing?
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[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.
He slips back into his room with a gesture to the chairs with on hand, bringing the flowers to his face with the other. Ah, he wonders if the scent is pleasant.]
Take a seat. I just need to find a--
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And then he takes in a deep breath
And immediately vanishes into thin air.]
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[ ............ Tch. Rude guy. ]
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The door is still wide open. Would Ginger like to snoop?]
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But he does wait a while, patiently impatient. Then, before he leaves, he opens up the window to air out the room.
Maybe next time... ]