Hello, Miss Aglaea. If you're not busy sometime in the next few days, I was wondering if you might be interested in making a trip out into The Fringes sometime soon.
[ Formal and vague, though he has an invitation to offer here shortly. ]
[ You thought she'd forget about Sunday's favourite nickname!!! OH-HO-HO, she most certainly did not. ]
I could probably make some time for it, if you don't mind being flexible with me. The contractors are being difficult, and I can't afford to turn away a student.
[ There is an instinctive wrinkle of his nose at that, no matter how much he enjoys talking to Aglaea. He really had so hoped that nickname would be forgotten. ]
Of course, whenever is best for you will work for me.
[ Time for a slight pause on diffusion zones, since - ]
Aside from the difficulties with the contactors, how is construction faring?
[ Too bad this is over text or she'd know better, because now it will be back, again. Someday. ]
Good. Luckily the technical maintenance is out of my hands (or unluckily), leaving me to focus on the presentation of the place. I do wish the final location had been in a less concerning neighborhood, but I suppose there are worse places I could have ended up with.
[ SOMEDAY... there's only so long he can hide that!! ]
I'm certain it will all be a great success and I'm looking forward to the grand opening. I imagine the presentation itself also be quite grand since that seems rather fitting.
Indeed I was sorting through some of the rumors posted about various diffusion zones that've appeared. There was one in particular which seems like it's an event of some kind. Aside from the market, that would be something new to me if you might also be interested in exploring it.
[ Although Aglaea is busier now than she ever has been since her arrival in the Diadem, a day of rest is always necessary. She had already finished her first bath of the day (yes, there are multiple), as well as her first meal, and very nearly picked up her first garment of clothing to lay stitches upon. However, each of these firsts is interrupted by a determined shiver along the threads.
Thick around her home and the paths that lead to it, she's protective of the space she resides. That Holmes is marching toward her room with some intent is interesting. So she carefully sets her working tools back down. She brushes her hands over her skirt as she stands, grateful that she still dresses for company even while she's home alone, and moves to open the door. Her simple, quiet morning, interrupted—
Holmes gets out all five knocks before Aglaea very promptly opens the door. She smiles, ]
Holmes.
[ Surely he anticipates that she knows he approached? ]
[A simple, quiet morning, unduly interrupted. That is the Holmes way; one need only ask his roommate Watson to verify, not that such a thing is possible now.
But indeed, they are mirror images of each other, as neither shows signs of surprise. She, that he is here; and Holmes, that she is not shocked to see him. The detective's lips flash a flicker of a smile. For his part, he is dressed plainly but on the verge of smart casual—clean, pressed slacks and a white button-up—as his Victorian habit dictates. (And even this feels painfully odd to him, but that is neither here nor there.)]
Ms Aglaea. Do forgive the intrusion. I would have called upon you first, but [I JUST DECIDED NOT TO TBH] I was already in the area. I hope I'm not interrupting...?
[Hm, based on what he observes, he does not appear to have interrupted anything particulary pressing.]
[ Her own smile grows a touch wider as she listens. Although potentially not a lie, there's something about his defense that feels, well, perhaps not wholly truthful. The smile betrays an affection or an amusement, small as the glimmer of emotions is within her. ]
I wouldn't say that.
[ Unlike Holmes, Aglaea has adapted to the modern fashion from her own arrival, but perhaps there's something to be said about the timelessness of men's fashion. Not that she has donned her old garb much (if at all) since her arrival when her closet was far thinner. Smartly dressed in a mustard turtleneck and brown pants, her head rests briefly on the edge of the door as she regards him. ]
Would you like to come in out of the cold, Holmes? I confess, my room is somewhat disorganized, but if you can look past that....
[ Her room is not just a bit disorganized. It very much looks like she has converted it into a tailor's shop that she slapped a bed into. Someday she will have a clean motel room to call her own. ...Maybe! But, if he agrees, she'll open the door wider for him for elaboration. ]
[It is a little white lie, and one he does not mind spinning even if she can see it. For what it's worth, let her interpret it as proof of his eagerness — which is indeed sincere in every movement, in even the lilting manner of his speech.]
Come now, disorganization is often proof that one's mind is focused elsewhere, on more compelling things. You should see the state of 221B when a particularly interesting case is brewing.
[Though that, too, is mostly Holmes' fault more than it ever is Watson's, much to the chagrin of their poor landlady.
Anyway, he does nod and step in, and it is clear that the "bit" was an understatement. But he rather likes having things to observe and pick apart; clearly this is more a tailor's outfit than a living quarters, which says something for the aforementioned priorities.]
And here I thought you were going into the bathhouse business. Are we feeling entrepreneurial enough to... [Pokes at a random bolt of cloth nearby.] ...also look into becoming a seamstress?
[ Since her last visitor, the room has gotten better and worse in different directions. Clothing of all manner hangs from different spots; some disassembled and pressed, others still in good shape. The makeshift, PVC pipe hanging rack at the back of her room has become thick with clothing – shirts, skirts, dresses and more, their qualities dubious. Two mismatched tables are pressed together at the side, but it's clear her bed is the largest workspace available, and not forgotten in its usefulness.
Bolts are here and there in the room, thanks to the improved access to Acreage and crafting cloths, but it's not nearly as many as she'd like. Instead, it seems Aglaea has fashioned a great deal of her clothing by salvaging the uglier or filthier things she'd found at the second hand store into her own works of art. Amidst the crafting of clothes, Holmes may also spot some knitting projects and small, patchwork dolls.
Although fabric drapes the scene, small things like loose threads or wrinkles are decidedly left out. Her kitchen area is immaculate and unperturbed by the fashion tornado.
She laughs softly as he takes in the many sights of clothing. ] I confess, as I have spent more time in this city, it occurred to me that I am too particular with my Romance to let it become a commodity. Tea?
[ Water freshly boiled, it wouldn't be hard to pour. ]
Come now, I spy a meticulous nature amid all this chaos.
[Indeed, he could run a parallel against his own tendencies, that there is reason among the chaos, a precise pattern to which only his own mind knows and adheres, though it might be indecipherable to an outsider. Amid all the clothing and reassembled fabrics made into something far more wearable, he knows this, too, must be case. Aglaea never struck him as a careless sort; and this is not a careless kind of mess. Especially given that there are places deliberately immune to the disorder, such as the immaculate kitchen.]
That may lend itself to business more than you believe, though if the heart isn't in it, I will admit there is little point.
[Ah, tea though. It is tempting, but Holmes raises a hand to figuratively nudge the notion away.]
I hope you'll forgive the audacity, but no. Indeed, I have not come here for a sit-down chat — but rather, to see if you were interested in something with a bit more excitement, and a venture that would take our feet to the cobblestone [or asphalt] sooner rather than later.
[ No sense delving into the complication of Aglaea's Romance and her finicky nature for dress. Always in the back of her mind, dreams of a tailor shop buzzed. If it came up, she might elucidate her feelings more plainly. For now, he's right: there's little point.
Her head tilts slightly as his hand goes up before her arm wraps around her chest and opposite fingers touch her lip, curious about the intentions he has for his visit. The paints them... in a fog, she would describe. Even from the first offer, it's a dangle of intrigue, no doubt a mind seeking another like-mind out. Her smile flutters behind her hand. ]
Excitement? At my age, excitement is more often a mask for trouble. [ But she's teasing. Her hand flicks away from her mouth and reveals her soft smile. ]
I suppose I could change my daily routines for something new. Let me fetch my things. [ Barely through her sentence, she starts to move around her room. Wallet, keys, a bag with only a few items within it. Her finished clothes are revealed for a moment as she searches her closet for the beautiful and warm jacket made with mismatched black fabrics. Her golden hair will be wrapped in a knitted hat shortly. ]
[ Ah, something Aglaea's heart actually struggles with. It would explain the brief misunderstanding she's feeling. ]
I confess, my sense of childish whimsy is rather diminished. It being "dreamlike" wouldn't have crossed my mind had you said nothing. If you'll give me a moment to clear my head of practicalities...
But it was that or a haunted wedding-gone-wrong on loop; as far as what the Forum's talking about, anyway. I presume that doesn't sound all that interesting either?
[ Though... hm, given the length of the drive— ] Any chance I can convince you to spend the night out and return in the morning? The back of my jeep's a lot more comfortable than it looks.
Like a camping trip? I can't say I've ever had such an experience. Not to say I'm against it, but the particulars of what should bring on such an excursion are somewhat lost on me.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
— sometime in february
[ Formal and vague, though he has an invitation to offer here shortly. ]
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[ You thought she'd forget about Sunday's favourite nickname!!! OH-HO-HO, she most certainly did not. ]
I could probably make some time for it, if you don't mind being flexible with me. The contractors are being difficult, and I can't afford to turn away a student.
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Of course, whenever is best for you will work for me.
[ Time for a slight pause on diffusion zones, since - ]
Aside from the difficulties with the contactors, how is construction faring?
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Good. Luckily the technical maintenance is out of my hands (or unluckily), leaving me to focus on the presentation of the place. I do wish the final location had been in a less concerning neighborhood, but I suppose there are worse places I could have ended up with.
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I'm certain it will all be a great success and I'm looking forward to the grand opening. I imagine the presentation itself also be quite grand since that seems rather fitting.
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Do you mind if I ask why you bring up the Fringes? Has a rumor caught your interest?
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[ He has complete faith! And - ]
Indeed I was sorting through some of the rumors posted about various diffusion zones that've appeared. There was one in particular which seems like it's an event of some kind. Aside from the market, that would be something new to me if you might also be interested in exploring it.
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Is it meant to be a surprise?
[ This is how much faith she puts in you, Sunday!! ]
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[ But: was he hoping not mentioning what it is immediately might generate some intrigue? Absolutely. ]
I hear there's a wedding space somewhere out there. If nothing else, it might provide some inspiration for decoration for the bathhouse.
[ Or... something like that. ]
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action!
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early feburary.
Where is your place of current residence, Ms Aglaea? Wherever it may be, there is a knock knock knock knock knock on the door.]
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Thick around her home and the paths that lead to it, she's protective of the space she resides. That Holmes is marching toward her room with some intent is interesting. So she carefully sets her working tools back down. She brushes her hands over her skirt as she stands, grateful that she still dresses for company even while she's home alone, and moves to open the door. Her simple, quiet morning, interrupted—
Holmes gets out all five knocks before Aglaea very promptly opens the door. She smiles, ]
Holmes.
[ Surely he anticipates that she knows he approached? ]
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But indeed, they are mirror images of each other, as neither shows signs of surprise. She, that he is here; and Holmes, that she is not shocked to see him. The detective's lips flash a flicker of a smile. For his part, he is dressed plainly but on the verge of smart casual—clean, pressed slacks and a white button-up—as his Victorian habit dictates. (And even this feels painfully odd to him, but that is neither here nor there.)]
Ms Aglaea. Do forgive the intrusion. I would have called upon you first, but [I JUST DECIDED NOT TO TBH] I was already in the area. I hope I'm not interrupting...?
[Hm, based on what he observes, he does not appear to have interrupted anything particulary pressing.]
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I wouldn't say that.
[ Unlike Holmes, Aglaea has adapted to the modern fashion from her own arrival, but perhaps there's something to be said about the timelessness of men's fashion. Not that she has donned her old garb much (if at all) since her arrival when her closet was far thinner. Smartly dressed in a mustard turtleneck and brown pants, her head rests briefly on the edge of the door as she regards him. ]
Would you like to come in out of the cold, Holmes? I confess, my room is somewhat disorganized, but if you can look past that....
[ Her room is not just a bit disorganized. It very much looks like she has converted it into a tailor's shop that she slapped a bed into. Someday she will have a clean motel room to call her own. ...Maybe! But, if he agrees, she'll open the door wider for him for elaboration. ]
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Come now, disorganization is often proof that one's mind is focused elsewhere, on more compelling things. You should see the state of 221B when a particularly interesting case is brewing.
[Though that, too, is mostly Holmes' fault more than it ever is Watson's, much to the chagrin of their poor landlady.
Anyway, he does nod and step in, and it is clear that the "bit" was an understatement. But he rather likes having things to observe and pick apart; clearly this is more a tailor's outfit than a living quarters, which says something for the aforementioned priorities.]
And here I thought you were going into the bathhouse business. Are we feeling entrepreneurial enough to... [Pokes at a random bolt of cloth nearby.] ...also look into becoming a seamstress?
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Bolts are here and there in the room, thanks to the improved access to Acreage and crafting cloths, but it's not nearly as many as she'd like. Instead, it seems Aglaea has fashioned a great deal of her clothing by salvaging the uglier or filthier things she'd found at the second hand store into her own works of art. Amidst the crafting of clothes, Holmes may also spot some knitting projects and small, patchwork dolls.
Although fabric drapes the scene, small things like loose threads or wrinkles are decidedly left out. Her kitchen area is immaculate and unperturbed by the fashion tornado.
She laughs softly as he takes in the many sights of clothing. ] I confess, as I have spent more time in this city, it occurred to me that I am too particular with my Romance to let it become a commodity. Tea?
[ Water freshly boiled, it wouldn't be hard to pour. ]
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[Indeed, he could run a parallel against his own tendencies, that there is reason among the chaos, a precise pattern to which only his own mind knows and adheres, though it might be indecipherable to an outsider. Amid all the clothing and reassembled fabrics made into something far more wearable, he knows this, too, must be case. Aglaea never struck him as a careless sort; and this is not a careless kind of mess. Especially given that there are places deliberately immune to the disorder, such as the immaculate kitchen.]
That may lend itself to business more than you believe, though if the heart isn't in it, I will admit there is little point.
[Ah, tea though. It is tempting, but Holmes raises a hand to figuratively nudge the notion away.]
I hope you'll forgive the audacity, but no. Indeed, I have not come here for a sit-down chat — but rather, to see if you were interested in something with a bit more excitement, and a venture that would take our feet to the cobblestone [or asphalt] sooner rather than later.
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Her head tilts slightly as his hand goes up before her arm wraps around her chest and opposite fingers touch her lip, curious about the intentions he has for his visit. The paints them... in a fog, she would describe. Even from the first offer, it's a dangle of intrigue, no doubt a mind seeking another like-mind out. Her smile flutters behind her hand. ]
Excitement? At my age, excitement is more often a mask for trouble. [ But she's teasing. Her hand flicks away from her mouth and reveals her soft smile. ]
I suppose I could change my daily routines for something new. Let me fetch my things. [ Barely through her sentence, she starts to move around her room. Wallet, keys, a bag with only a few items within it. Her finished clothes are revealed for a moment as she searches her closet for the beautiful and warm jacket made with mismatched black fabrics. Her golden hair will be wrapped in a knitted hat shortly. ]
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text — february, 126.
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That sounds somewhat sickly sweet. [ More sickly than anything. ]
Does something about it intrigue you?
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It sounds like a child's dream more than anything else, doesn't it? That's plenty intriguing in itself.
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[ Ah, something Aglaea's heart actually struggles with. It would explain the brief misunderstanding she's feeling. ]
I confess, my sense of childish whimsy is rather diminished. It being "dreamlike" wouldn't have crossed my mind had you said nothing.
If you'll give me a moment to clear my head of practicalities...
[ No.... she's still going to struggle :( ]
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Nothing wrong with practicalities.
But it was that or a haunted wedding-gone-wrong on loop; as far as what the Forum's talking about, anyway. I presume that doesn't sound all that interesting either?
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If that is what you're proposing. I have some time in the afternoon, which I would gladly give you.
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[ Though... hm, given the length of the drive— ] Any chance I can convince you to spend the night out and return in the morning? The back of my jeep's a lot more comfortable than it looks.
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I can't say I've ever had such an experience. Not to say I'm against it, but the particulars of what should bring on such an excursion are somewhat lost on me.
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