strongroots | [thecity] inbox

we can all do with something to do, huh. i've been feeling better with the distraction too.

i live in district 1. here, i'll send you a pin. [ BECAUSE I READ OTHER PEOPLE DOING THAT SO ROBBY IS TOO!!! he's a hip teen, he knows phones.

and lookie here, he lives on the east side of the apartments. pretty close to where the 'diner' will be! ]

[ marvel. ]

Goodness, that's a useful feature.
A pin, is it called? How are you doing that?

[ There is ten seconds when he starts to explain, but that gets deleted since: ]

i'll show you when you come over. easier that way

[ Kaveh seems like a smart guy, but let's just do this the easy way. ]

i'm on the ground floor, room 8.

Then, I shall be there. I'll see you soon.

[ true to his word, kaveh makes it across town in a span of time that can be described as 'soon', though that has less to do with his alacrity and more to do with the size of the city proper. sumeru city had been a wending maze of tree canopy and forest roots, made strong and tall from the drip-feeding of the bounty of dendro. it had been a world unto itself. you couldn't get anywhere in the city in fifteen minutes' time because it took you that long to figure out which of the root systems got you to where and why.

but the city there is a linear path paved with the straight lines of a place not designed for side-trips. kaveh misses it, the little nooks and crannies that harboured fascinating little street stalls selling deshretian-era vases and little star-sprinkled candies that popped on your tongue. the clamour of the shopkeeping aunties and uncles as they called out their wares and gossiped about the local youth. the little balconies along the descending path where you could see the city and the land it inhabits out for kilometres on end.

robby's apartment building is situated near the proposed location of the diner. they say you ought to live close to where you work; kaveh thinks of alhaitham and his home tucked away in the shadow of the akademiya as he navigates his way to room 8. shouldering two totes in his scarf and jacket the colour of a ripe lemon and with pockets the size of small breadboxes, he gives the door a brisk knock, and settles back on his heels to wait. ]

[ 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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