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.

If Sterling should knock or call in, he'll turn and grin brightly, teeth so very white, calling out a very cheerful 'come in!'

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.