Talk:Edmond Basumatary/Temp
The address that Sterling has for Edmond, confirmed later in the text message series Ed sent inviting her over to his place, is a small first-floor apartment in a quite shoddy building in a not especially nice neighborhood in Fort Brunsett. The hallway outside the door is narrow and dim-ish, but clean enough, and the door to number eight has been freshly painted white and the doorknob scrubbed until it gleams. It's also open a crack, and the bright red inside spills out into that dim hall.
It's a crack open just in case Sterling comes by while Edmond's got his hands full, but seeing as it's a small place, she can also see him from the crack in the door. Perhaps he's not afraid of getting shot. He is, in fact, cooking, and humming to himself as he does so; he's wearing a loose dove-grey silk shirt with the sleeves pinned up and a navy blue nehru jacket with gold embroidery over it; his jeans are black and he's wearing black slip-on shoes. The pinned-up sleeves reveal that the wood only goes up to about three-quarters up his forearms, and appears rooted to a horizon that goes up a quarter of his biceps before it hits the edge of the sky.
The scent of spices is strong but pleasant: he's gone for the korma mixes this time, rather than standard curry-style blends, especially since the door's part open and he didn't want to flood the hall when people might complain.
This time around, Sterling has gone for a more modern and understated look - she's wearing a deep blue dress, that in some ways almost mimics sportswear, with zipped pockets just below the hips. There's also a pair of pants underneath, a somewhat looser fit than leggings, and she has her usual boots - gleaming with hedgespun mist - and a black blazer over top underneath of a winter coat.
Little actual heed is paid to the building itself, or any potential neighbors, but she does stop short when she notices the freshly painted door and the crack in it. A moment's hesitation, and she lifts a hand to wrap her lightning-laced knuckles against the frame of the door.
There's a glance over his shoulder as soon as Sterling's hand touches the jamb, and there's the grin, teeth bright in his night-sky face. "Hallo! Come in dear Doctor Plague, I am sorry for not inviting you earlier, or contacting you either-- I was a bit slow to recover, and then met neighbors and cooked for them, and had to go shopping, and many things I did not expect-- please close the door behind you, Kelsey can knock if he comes by. Ah! He lives down the hall, and I think you would like each other very much."
He spins on a heel with a pot full of Stuff, and he starts pouring it into a big bowl. It doesn't match the rest of the dishes, but there are places set at the table in front of the couch, informal but Prepared. The table itself is a little bit higher than a coffee table, so people are likely expected to pick up their plates. There is no television. There is a pot of tea under a ridiculous tea cosy that was knitted to look like a big orange tabby cat.
Stepping in quietly, Sterling reaches behind herself to close the door, space-lightning glance going Edmond's way where he's cooking in the kitchen. "I'm glad to hear that you took care of yourself, and recovered," she says in answer, and actually smiles, shown by the relative brightness of her teeth when her misty flesh pulls back. Reaching up, she removes her coat, laying it over one arm. "And have made new friends. Good."
There is a clear tone of approval, and then quiet as she starts looking around, eventually just laying her coat over the couch's arm if available. "It's a little more... eclectic than I imagined," this is said while Sterling is looking down at the ridiculous tea cozy, sitting proudly on the set table.
"I like colors and bright things very much," Edmond answers the observation first, glancing up with a smile, wry and crooked. "There are not enough of them in the world outside my head, so during the times that I have a space, I flood it with what gives me comfort." The smile turns into a wide grin, the stars in his eyes sparkling. "Additionally, as it happens, it gives Kelsey something to complain about."
He comes around the grey formica counter with a big bowl of fluffy pale gold rice with saffron and bits of orange zest in it, and sets it down next to the fat orange cat tea cosy, then goes back for the bowl of Stuff he'd poured from a saucepan. It looks like some kind of chunky thick sauce, and it's set down next to the rice. "One more!" he says cheerily, then goes back for a round flat dish-- looks like it's in a cake pan-- of layered vegetables and other stuff and crunchy fried bits of dough on top. That and a pitcher of pale gold iced beverage are put down as well.
The couch can indeed have the coat laid down over the end. Edmond smooths down his jacket and unpins his sleeves, then pulls over the wooden desk chair from the typewriter table in the corner. He rocks back on his heels and gestures broadly at the couch and table, smiling winningly. "We can start without him. And-- yes, I-- did not think I would be making other friends, but it seems that even if I am determined to avoid attachments, they happen regardless of my intentions," he says sheepishly. "But I did tell you I would recover. It is still a rickety thing, recovery, but as long as I do not dwell on it, I am all right."
He gestures at the dishes. "Rice, self-explanatory, but it is orange and saffron. This is vegetable korma; this is cold and a dessert of sorts, it is aloo papri chaat. And the tea is chai, but I have black as well if you would prefer it; the pitcher is nimbu pani, which is lime and mint."
"...I imagine that I must be very boring, in your world of colors," notes the monochromatic Sterling, all deep grey and black laced with bits of silver-white lightning. She, often times, is very much like looking at a particularly animate x-ray. Turning, she carefully sits down on the couch, the halo of black nebula that is her hair slowly wending and curling around her face, and up through the air as well. "It looks delightful, Edmond. I believe I will have the... let's see... start with the rice..." she takes up a plate, putting some of the orange and saffron rice onto it. A quick turn, and she begins to add vegetable korma as well.
"As for your recovery... it always is; but do try to care for yourself. That is the most important. Some of the most beautiful things are... the most fragile." She hesitates a little on what she says, a small frown pulling at her lips and turning them downwards. It really ends up more as a deepening of shadows, there, over the light from her facial bones.
Instead, she points out as she continues to separate out food, "Friends are important. Why are you trying to avoid them?"
"You could never be boring," Edmond says with a laugh, but there is fondness behind it, in abundance. "All of your colors are in your words and your manner, in your motion and deed, in that smirk you make that you try to hide." There may be some teasing in there, but it's very slight, even if there's a grin, finally, at the end. He dishes rice and korma out for himself, and then he leans to pick up the teapot and pour for both of them, Sterling first. Hot tea won't stay hot, but the limeade will stay cold for a bit, with the ice in it. There's honey and cream for the tea, in easy reach, and Sterling's got first dibs on fixing hers if she likes.
Picking up his plate, Edmond glosses over her comment about the most beautiful things being fragile, having only a smile for it, pointed down at his plate, but when she continues and asks a question, he glances up and looks faintly embarrassed. "They are very easy to lose, and I have found that that experience is more damaging than being friendly with many and close with none, and leaving a place before becoming too attached. It is... loss is destructive. Especially when I am unprepared. But-- I cannot, this time. I cannot avoid it this time. There is already too much of myself rooted here."
