"...And you will want to make yourself scarce before they realize their culprit was standing here the entire time."
"Oh, if it were not this, they would undoubtedly find some other reason to find me troublesome." The Fool waves at the Sentry rather dismissively before he turns towards a set of polished wooden steps leading to the building's second storey. The Sentry look after both of them with frustration, but without due cause (or proof of it at any rate) their hands are tied, and they can't follow. If the look the Fool sends over his shoulder is a bit coy, well, who can blame him?
The second storey above Die Rosa Tulpe is home to two private apartments, and the Fool fishes out his keys to open the door to the left. Inside, the apartment has grown to be his own over the months that he has spent here, filled with brightly coloured accents and with a selection of blooming plants before the windows that are thriving in the tropical environment. Lounging atop a table next to a modest kitchenette is one of the bat kittens that made an appearance with the most recent shunt, and with a tired sigh the Fool scoops her up with an admonishing cluck of his tongue and deposits her on the floor.
There's a little table with an incomplete chess game on it near one of the windows, as well as a small work station with the Fool's tool set still set out atop it. The Fool straightens up and glances back at Rutile. "I would offer you tea," he says, "but I think perhaps a tea towel might be more useful." For the purposes of drying off, that is. He fetches one out of a drawer and offers it out to Rutile.
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"Oh, if it were not this, they would undoubtedly find some other reason to find me troublesome." The Fool waves at the Sentry rather dismissively before he turns towards a set of polished wooden steps leading to the building's second storey. The Sentry look after both of them with frustration, but without due cause (or proof of it at any rate) their hands are tied, and they can't follow. If the look the Fool sends over his shoulder is a bit coy, well, who can blame him?
The second storey above Die Rosa Tulpe is home to two private apartments, and the Fool fishes out his keys to open the door to the left. Inside, the apartment has grown to be his own over the months that he has spent here, filled with brightly coloured accents and with a selection of blooming plants before the windows that are thriving in the tropical environment. Lounging atop a table next to a modest kitchenette is one of the bat kittens that made an appearance with the most recent shunt, and with a tired sigh the Fool scoops her up with an admonishing cluck of his tongue and deposits her on the floor.
There's a little table with an incomplete chess game on it near one of the windows, as well as a small work station with the Fool's tool set still set out atop it. The Fool straightens up and glances back at Rutile. "I would offer you tea," he says, "but I think perhaps a tea towel might be more useful." For the purposes of drying off, that is. He fetches one out of a drawer and offers it out to Rutile.