[He'll politely open the door a little wider, keeping it open with the wave of his wand as he turns to slip back inside.
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, and many of the collectible gachapon figures line another. 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 gestures for Phil to take a seat in one of the chairs as he works on moving his desk out of the way, the furniture itself levitating further to the back corner with a messy spill of papers like fallen leaves across the floor.]
That was a lot of information we took in downstairs. How are you feeling right now?
[Phil lets his gaze drift over the various items and furniture filling the room as he enters. It's quite a contrast to his own room, piled high with books on every available flat surface and spilling over into heaps on the floor, and for a moment he feels a slight twinge of envy that another magically-inclined type can manage to keep his private space so organized.
He takes a seat in the chair when instructed, folding his hands in his lap as much to try to keep himself from fidgeting nervously as to look polite and well-mannered.]
Haha... I think it goes without saying that I've felt better.
[His emotions have been raw for weeks now, an unhealed wound that keeps getting re-aggravated by unexpected things.]
I imagined as much. [Quipped as he gathers up those stray papers, dropping them against his desk. That is a problem for future Solomon.] But I'd still like to hear something a little more specific than that.
Do you mean what's likely to be our upcoming battle? [He pauses for a moment, reaches up to adjust his monocle a bit out of nervous habit.] I can't say that I'm not concerned about it. Especially if... if I'm not able to get my magic working properly again.
[Because, for all the things that Phil lacks confidence in, his own abilities where magic and mirristry are concerned aren't one of them.]
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no subject
Here. Come inside, then.
[He'll politely open the door a little wider, keeping it open with the wave of his wand as he turns to slip back inside.
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, and many of the collectible gachapon figures line another. 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 gestures for Phil to take a seat in one of the chairs as he works on moving his desk out of the way, the furniture itself levitating further to the back corner with a messy spill of papers like fallen leaves across the floor.]
That was a lot of information we took in downstairs. How are you feeling right now?
no subject
[Phil lets his gaze drift over the various items and furniture filling the room as he enters. It's quite a contrast to his own room, piled high with books on every available flat surface and spilling over into heaps on the floor, and for a moment he feels a slight twinge of envy that another magically-inclined type can manage to keep his private space so organized.
He takes a seat in the chair when instructed, folding his hands in his lap as much to try to keep himself from fidgeting nervously as to look polite and well-mannered.]
Haha... I think it goes without saying that I've felt better.
[His emotions have been raw for weeks now, an unhealed wound that keeps getting re-aggravated by unexpected things.]
I wouldn't be here if that weren't the case...
no subject
Are you scared of what's to come?
no subject
[Because, for all the things that Phil lacks confidence in, his own abilities where magic and mirristry are concerned aren't one of them.]