@voidmarks
[msg] If you’re not terribly busy, it would please me if you’d visit me in Lampadias tomorrow [msg] I’ll provide lunch [msg] I trust you’ll have no trouble finding the first floor [msg] 😘
In preparation for the big day, their door is invitingly ajar. The Diplomat lounges in a floral jumpsuit, scrolling lazily through their holophone, in every inch artfully relaxed as if they haven’t been making careful preparations all morning.
The glimpse into their living space is minimal; they’ve stowed away most of the personal touches they’ve made to their apartment, aside from a lone gas lamp on the desk, and a thick, purple curtain sectioning off a corner.
(They would have dismantled the corner, but kept mysteriously forgetting what they were doing in the middle of the task. Such is the danger of dealing with irrigo.)
Sunlight veritably pours through the window. The day is going to be hot and bright outside.
All the pieces are laid out. Now they only need their guest of honour.
