[Liem can’t remember the last time he’s been able to just stay at home and vibe. The closest he ever really comes is taking a day to stay in and do housework, which is what he’s in the middle of when he hears the unexpected knock at his door. This, in and of itself, is already unusual. He pauses in the midst of running a dusting rag over one of the end-tables in his sitting room, clad only in slim trousers, house slippers, and a button-up shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
Perhaps one of his neighbours has come to speak with him. The only other person who usually shows up at his door unannounced is Set, and the polite knock he now makes his way to answer is a far cry from the cacophony the war god always beats against the polished wood until the very moment the door finally opens.
(It is not a neighbour, of course, though they certainly are watching, peeping from front gardens and between lacy curtains. Mr. Talbott deserves a nicer man than the red-haired harlot who makes frequent visits to his home, barefoot and half-dressed, but this tall figure in black is a bit ominous for a suitor.)
As always, Liem answers his door with a bit of a squint; he doesn’t wear his glasses inside his own home, and indeed, the house behind him is thick with shadows, the curtains all mostly-drawn to keep out the suns’ light. Even the strangeness of Springstar’s gathering darkness of late cannot coax him into opening the curtains wider. When he sees D, however, his eyebrows lift in an expression of surprise.]
Dee— This is unexpected. To what do I owe this pleasure?
🧛
Perhaps one of his neighbours has come to speak with him. The only other person who usually shows up at his door unannounced is Set, and the polite knock he now makes his way to answer is a far cry from the cacophony the war god always beats against the polished wood until the very moment the door finally opens.
(It is not a neighbour, of course, though they certainly are watching, peeping from front gardens and between lacy curtains. Mr. Talbott deserves a nicer man than the red-haired harlot who makes frequent visits to his home, barefoot and half-dressed, but this tall figure in black is a bit ominous for a suitor.)
As always, Liem answers his door with a bit of a squint; he doesn’t wear his glasses inside his own home, and indeed, the house behind him is thick with shadows, the curtains all mostly-drawn to keep out the suns’ light. Even the strangeness of Springstar’s gathering darkness of late cannot coax him into opening the curtains wider. When he sees D, however, his eyebrows lift in an expression of surprise.]
Dee— This is unexpected. To what do I owe this pleasure?