sperare.

" oh ? not to your taste ? " taiyou looks down at n with an amused chuckle, taking note of the unfinished pastry held in his hand as they walk down the street of the bustling town. with a bag of fresh berries and vegetables held over his shoulders, they finished running an errand to the farmer's market for supplies. ( was this ' errand ' meant to also serve as a makeshift date for the two of them ? ... maybe. ) reaching out to take the offered pastry from him, he casually takes a bite out of it; it was one of those buttered, chocolate croissants that looked decent enough for a quick snack. alas ...

" hm, i think i can see why. such a lackluster flavor that tastes a bit too doughy. seems not a lot of effort was actually put into making this .... a shame. don't worry. when we get home, i'll make you something even better. how does that sound ? "

He  can  see  here.  And  takes  in  the...  artwork?  Paintings,  sculptures.  This  room  is  louder  than  it  should  be-  a  chorus  of  desperation.  It  has  his  brows  furrowed,  and  his  gaze  narrowed  behind  his  shades.  "  The  hell...  "  attention  slowly  drawn  to  the  chilly  pull  of  a  single  man.  He  looks  warm,  inviting,  friendly.  And  it  suddenly  reminds  Briar  of  the  façade  he  maintains  under  the  gaze  of  countless  people.  Fake.

"  I  will  assume...  this  is  yours?  "  the  art,  the  room,  the...  it  takes  a  bit  of  effort  on  his  part,  but  he  manages  to  quiet  the  rest  of  the  room.  To  narrow  his  ability  and  senses  forward.  Hmm...  he  smells  nice  at  least.  Too  often,  people  decked  so  finely  reeked  of  thick  perfumes  and  deception.  The  former  was  certainly  more  bearable  in  this  case-  but.  For  the  first  time  in  recent  memory...  Briar  can't  get  a  proper  read.

Gloved  hand  comes  up  to  adjust  the  tangerine  lenses.  "  I'm  Briar.  "

a new guest has arrived. it was as if his museum itself uttered those very words in his ears the moment he hears the arrival of a newcomer. an unfamiliar face amidst the cosmos pool of visitors that step through those doors. from the way he arrived, however, it was quite clear that perhaps he didn't come here of his own volition. ( if he did ... it wasn't a conscious choice. ) no matter. a visitor was a visitor; in the eyes of the curator that has made home in his beloved museum, in this plane drifting amidst the stars and the unknown, is it not his job to make them all feel welcome and curious ? it's why when pale eyes meet with the newcomer's appearance, a warm smile is presented across its own visage. curiosity; the most important display on a visitor's face.

" hello there, briar. " casimir greets him softly, without missing a beat in addressing him by his name once presented with it. with his cane held at his side, he offers his visitor with a small, polite bow. " indeed ... this place, it is all mine. you don't seem to be ... familiar around here. " he speaks less on the fact that briar was new and more onto the indication that briar seemed like he felt out of place. well, it's not like he can blame him. after all, how would it feel to wander to someplace you don't recognize ? that only means it's casimir's duty to make him feel more comfortable. " i assume you must be a much newer guest of mine. " the curator makes the first move to begin approaching briar, an almost eerily perfect flow in the pace of his steps as the distance between them closes a bit more, but is nonetheless long enough to maintain basic decorum and common courtesy.

" my name is casimir. casimir achim. it's a pleasure to meet you at last. " as if he was waiting -- expecting even, for his arrival. " tell me, how can i help you today ? "