I'm sure I have a photo in here if you're curious. [And then he laughs: a small, soft thing.]
Look at me, letting in notorious criminal Sampo Koski and offering to show him pictures of my family. That's how I know I'm not fit to be a Silvermane Guard anymore.
[And the key goes into the lock, the door swings open, and Gepard flicks on the light.
It's a bookstore. The insides are a warm brown, which might be surprising given how much of the Overworld's sense of aesthetics seem to revolve around cool colors: white and blue, splashes of stark black, the warmest brown seen a tan. But, no. Warm brown bookshelves, a warm brown floor of a slightly different color, a old rug that's red and orange and yellow. Sure, there's white walls, so it's not like the place is entirely alien, but one of the owners - Gepard, whomever owned it before him, whomever came before them - had made an effort to defy Overworld aesthetic sensibilities.
There's books, obviously. A desk. Some pictures, here and there. Couches, plush and inviting.]
Make yourself at home. I'll make some- [What does he have in here...? It's in his backroom.] Tea, probably. I hope that will be alright with you.
[And he's going to do just that, giving Sampo time to...follow, or lock the front door and wait, or to just leave. Whatever he could want.]
no subject
Look at me, letting in notorious criminal Sampo Koski and offering to show him pictures of my family. That's how I know I'm not fit to be a Silvermane Guard anymore.
[And the key goes into the lock, the door swings open, and Gepard flicks on the light.
It's a bookstore. The insides are a warm brown, which might be surprising given how much of the Overworld's sense of aesthetics seem to revolve around cool colors: white and blue, splashes of stark black, the warmest brown seen a tan. But, no. Warm brown bookshelves, a warm brown floor of a slightly different color, a old rug that's red and orange and yellow. Sure, there's white walls, so it's not like the place is entirely alien, but one of the owners - Gepard, whomever owned it before him, whomever came before them - had made an effort to defy Overworld aesthetic sensibilities.
There's books, obviously. A desk. Some pictures, here and there. Couches, plush and inviting.]
Make yourself at home. I'll make some- [What does he have in here...? It's in his backroom.] Tea, probably. I hope that will be alright with you.
[And he's going to do just that, giving Sampo time to...follow, or lock the front door and wait, or to just leave. Whatever he could want.]