[ The apartments mask well the sounds inside, that there isn't much to be heard until the door opens, partially. A chain stops it from coming any further, and while break-ins aren't--so far--a common occurrence in a city where everything but freedom comes without a price, it's out of habit that Robby bothers.
So for it, Kaveh will see a pair of green eyes from the slit of the door, hear a ] Hey, hold on, [ that's casual and comfortable, before the door closes again so Robby can pull back on the latch and open the door proper.
And, once again: ] Hey there, come in. I cleared a table.
[ He wears a similar fashion that Kaveh would've seen him in when they first met with Mister LaRusso: jeans, a short-sleeved shirt, and with his hair pushed back. His hand never leaves off the door until he opens it fully, stepping aside so Kaveh can in to a tidy, and otherwise unremarkable apartment space. Not much has been done to make it distinct from other rooms, other than the signs of living in that comes from notebooks on the coffee table by the lounging area, opened with a ruler and signs of being recently used.
But that's not the table Robby will eventually nod to, but to the dining table. Much more room on that there table, for anything Kaveh has to show him. ]
[ the door opens. the motion of it truncates at the introduction of the chain. kaveh looks, smiling through the gap as the chain is undone and inertia no longer stands in the way of the door's swing. robby's eyes, kaveh notes, are a rare shade of green. it reminds him a little of duskbird feathers as they shed in the night, drifting with an austere quiet towards the depth of a forest floor. there's something steady about them in form. ]
There's you, [ kaveh says, with a smile that creeps into something bright, much in the way of a wayward starburst. his head dips as he enters. ] and thanks for having me on such short notice. I hope I wasn't disturbing anything, though I suppose time has a way of sorting itself out in this city when it comes to this sort of thing.
[ the apartment, kaveh notes, is a tidy, neat affair. there is excellent lighting that speaks well to the selected exposure. kaveh moves past the entranceway and remembers that there had been previous inhabitants here with the traces of their lives lived; robby's life, in contrast, is one that he reads in the simple set of the furniture and the notebooks on the coffee table.
diligent and steady. kaveh removes several tile samples from his tote bag, and deposits each little paper-wrapped pile in succession. gray, blue, red, green, brown - he looks up with a glint. ]
I was thinking about the feel of the floor. You'd want something that isn't quite cold, not in the colour sense, and certainly not in the clinical sense. I didn't think either of you would want anything that reminded you of the mall given everyone's associations of it, so linoleum from the mall was out. But there are floor tiles that we can source from other stores - these are the ones that you see here. [ kaveh hums. ] What do you think? Could we pass these on to Mister LaRusso for opinions as well? I know you mentioned that he might not be at home, but it's not as if this is any rush.
[ Listening to Kaveh, quite plainly, brings to Robby the question of what he's doing here -- and either 'he' in the room is actually the he in question. Truly, this guy is here to talk about tiling, and Robby's standing by the dinner table with the selection that Kaveh's brought out, and has absolutely no thoughts about tiling even with the pieces in front of him.
And not because he couldn't have input, but for this, his input seems secondary -- a far, far secondary -- to whose input matters most. That he's glad for the mention of Mister LaRusso and where he is, since he can jump right on that. ]
You can leave them here and I'll give them to Mister LaRusso soon as he's back. I checked before you showed up -- I think he's gone to see someone. [ Or something. Mister LaRusso isn't his dad, or he's not Mister LaRusso's dad.... anyway.
And truly, anyway, because Robby continues, with an apologetic huff before he does, the smile he pulls sheepish. ] But he'll be the best guy to ask about this. I mean, I asked around for help, but I have his back 'cause he's my sensei. I owe him.
[ And what if his sensei wants tiles? Who is Robby to deny him? Even if he does feel bad, letting Kaveh come all this way to...him. ]
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strongroots) wrote2023-07-11 06:52 pm
no subject
So for it, Kaveh will see a pair of green eyes from the slit of the door, hear a ] Hey, hold on, [ that's casual and comfortable, before the door closes again so Robby can pull back on the latch and open the door proper.
And, once again: ] Hey there, come in. I cleared a table.
[ He wears a similar fashion that Kaveh would've seen him in when they first met with Mister LaRusso: jeans, a short-sleeved shirt, and with his hair pushed back. His hand never leaves off the door until he opens it fully, stepping aside so Kaveh can in to a tidy, and otherwise unremarkable apartment space. Not much has been done to make it distinct from other rooms, other than the signs of living in that comes from notebooks on the coffee table by the lounging area, opened with a ruler and signs of being recently used.
But that's not the table Robby will eventually nod to, but to the dining table. Much more room on that there table, for anything Kaveh has to show him. ]
no subject
There's you, [ kaveh says, with a smile that creeps into something bright, much in the way of a wayward starburst. his head dips as he enters. ] and thanks for having me on such short notice. I hope I wasn't disturbing anything, though I suppose time has a way of sorting itself out in this city when it comes to this sort of thing.
[ the apartment, kaveh notes, is a tidy, neat affair. there is excellent lighting that speaks well to the selected exposure. kaveh moves past the entranceway and remembers that there had been previous inhabitants here with the traces of their lives lived; robby's life, in contrast, is one that he reads in the simple set of the furniture and the notebooks on the coffee table.
diligent and steady. kaveh removes several tile samples from his tote bag, and deposits each little paper-wrapped pile in succession. gray, blue, red, green, brown - he looks up with a glint. ]
I was thinking about the feel of the floor. You'd want something that isn't quite cold, not in the colour sense, and certainly not in the clinical sense. I didn't think either of you would want anything that reminded you of the mall given everyone's associations of it, so linoleum from the mall was out. But there are floor tiles that we can source from other stores - these are the ones that you see here. [ kaveh hums. ] What do you think? Could we pass these on to Mister LaRusso for opinions as well? I know you mentioned that he might not be at home, but it's not as if this is any rush.
no subject
And not because he couldn't have input, but for this, his input seems secondary -- a far, far secondary -- to whose input matters most. That he's glad for the mention of Mister LaRusso and where he is, since he can jump right on that. ]
You can leave them here and I'll give them to Mister LaRusso soon as he's back. I checked before you showed up -- I think he's gone to see someone. [ Or something. Mister LaRusso isn't his dad, or he's not Mister LaRusso's dad.... anyway.
And truly, anyway, because Robby continues, with an apologetic huff before he does, the smile he pulls sheepish. ] But he'll be the best guy to ask about this. I mean, I asked around for help, but I have his back 'cause he's my sensei. I owe him.
[ And what if his sensei wants tiles? Who is Robby to deny him? Even if he does feel bad, letting Kaveh come all this way to...him. ]