[ being nosy as hell, going through everything - and then immediately getting distracted by the titty magazines and taking one to go flip through it while flopped backwards on her very not soft bed. ]
You would have been, had you not wasted your opportunity by saying so as a petty jab earlier.
[she sniffs indignantly, and follows him.]
I am glad to see you again, even if I wish it were not here. Going back was in some ways...not as bad as it had been prior, actually. But I didn't intend to be away so long.
I don't regret the petty jab, and I will not take it back, so there.
[ grinning at her a bit, and then opening the door to his room -
The whole room isn’t huge, but probably it appears smaller than it actually is because it’s cram packed - covered with hanging fabrics and patterned lights, all sorts of things hanging on the walls: pictures and tapestries and postcards, bits of glass gems on strings, strands of silk flowers, feathers from a bevy of different birds. It is maximalism … to the max. If it is shiny and interesting, it’s somewhere in the mess. Everything is made of handmade and homey materials - wooden floors with a soft rug and simple walls, not that you see them behind the decoration. There symbols and iconography of anything and everything: religions and gods from a myriad of worlds alchemical symbols, celestial signs and the traditional images of tarot mixed in with the madness. The desk is small and overloaded with tchotchkes and trinkets, and the surface of it is marked with ink and paint stains - well-used and worn in but sturdy. There isn’t a chair, just a big cushion instead so good luck to your back. The bed is overly large and slightly too soft, covered in blankets and pillows in a blinding mish-mash of colors and patterns, hung with gauzy curtains and dangling soft lights. It’s cozy and comfortable, always sort of dimly lit in an intimate way. Also Frumpkin is embarrassingly caught kneading one of the pillows and purring away, as Molly opens the door. ]
[this is very familiar, and it's warm and makes her a little homesick. she'll wander over and flop down on the bed next to frumpkin, giving him a little bone earring to play with and teasing him with it.]
[ he does the kitty thing of chasing after it with his front paws, tail flicking. The room is probably very similar to whatever Molly has going in the tower at home - maybe a bit messier, and definitely smaller, a little more cheap looking, but in a personal way. ]
What was he even doing that was smart? He's just getting hair on everything.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
outsidebones) wrote2022-06-04 04:59 pm
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This is awful.
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[anyway good news the titty mags do in fact have actual titties in them.]
This is a very respectable Ninth House cell.
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[ oh! actually titties. amazing. turning the magazine when he gets to a fold out panel. ]
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[ but he puts it down anyway, looking around the room some more. Reaching over to poke a skeleton in the head. ]
It does suit your style.
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[ reaching over to try and pat her. she's probably not near by. ]
It's just a bathroom. Only need it for certain purposes. Hardly have to spend any time in there.
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I don't much care for it. In any event, I will barricade the door at night. He's fine with it, so I'll make do.
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If you'd rather use mine and keep yours locked, it's just walk down the hall.
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[she makes a pouty expression, like she doesn't like conceding defeat.]
He's a perfectly fine person, I think. There's no reason to be bothered by it.
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I did miss him.
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[ leading her off down the hallway - and this time he can read, so he can find his room pretty easily. ]
I missed you too, if I'm allowed to say that.
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[she sniffs indignantly, and follows him.]
I am glad to see you again, even if I wish it were not here. Going back was in some ways...not as bad as it had been prior, actually. But I didn't intend to be away so long.
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[ grinning at her a bit, and then opening the door to his room -
The whole room isn’t huge, but probably it appears smaller than it actually is because it’s cram packed - covered with hanging fabrics and patterned lights, all sorts of things hanging on the walls: pictures and tapestries and postcards, bits of glass gems on strings, strands of silk flowers, feathers from a bevy of different birds. It is maximalism … to the max. If it is shiny and interesting, it’s somewhere in the mess. Everything is made of handmade and homey materials - wooden floors with a soft rug and simple walls, not that you see them behind the decoration. There symbols and iconography of anything and everything: religions and gods from a myriad of worlds alchemical symbols, celestial signs and the traditional images of tarot mixed in with the madness. The desk is small and overloaded with tchotchkes and trinkets, and the surface of it is marked with ink and paint stains - well-used and worn in but sturdy. There isn’t a chair, just a big cushion instead so good luck to your back. The bed is overly large and slightly too soft, covered in blankets and pillows in a blinding mish-mash of colors and patterns, hung with gauzy curtains and dangling soft lights. It’s cozy and comfortable, always sort of dimly lit in an intimate way. Also Frumpkin is embarrassingly caught kneading one of the pillows and purring away, as Molly opens the door. ]
What are you even doing in here alone ...
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Hello. Aren't you clever.
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What was he even doing that was smart? He's just getting hair on everything.
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