@pacemaking
Fumes of musky cigarettes linger in the air even before entering the Trammel. It was no secret that Yulia was a heavy smoker, but for for the scent to linger far outside of her domain, that meant one of two things.
She was either quite stressed, or quite focused- and the difference between the two was probably indistinguishable to most, save for her “housemate”, Aysa.
Focused seemed to be her default state, however, the hyper-rational genius that she was.
Saburov enters through, and waves a hand to waft the motley smoke out of his face as he breaches the door. The Trammel being a library first and foremost, he felt that knocking was uncalled for, and more likely to disturb whatever calculations she was doing at any given moment.
Coughing as quietly as he could into a gloved hand, he pushes forward, easing his way toward where he remembered the drafting room being.
“Yulia?“ he calls, finding his breath again.
Being a former soldier, he understood the calming effects of a cigarette or two on occasion (along with the temporary reprieve from hunger), but Yulia was a verified combustible steam engine by this point.
“I wanted to discuss something with you, are you available?”
