Kaveh (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mehrakulous) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
gurabad2023-09-08 11:30 am
mehrakulous) wrote in gurabad2023-09-08 11:30 am
158 » it's the house telling you to close your eyes
[It's a lovely afternoon in Sumeru City.
Ordinarily, the heat of the day hits its peak at a time like this. Vendors close up their stalls for a break from the sun and humidity; students hunker down in a dark corner of the Akademiya library or cluster together at a restaurant's table over cold drinks and something spicy, because an Akademiya student is always a little predisposed to inviting his own suffering. Sometimes, with the weather at its most contrary, a horrifically humid afternoon becomes a shower becomes a downpour, sending visitors and residents alike scuttling under awnings and into buildings.
Today that rain came early in the morning. Its passing gave the winding streets of the city (the roots of their edifice of knowledge, just as the Great Tree's roots support its trunk and branches) a fresh-washed shine and took enough heaviness from the air to make the afternoon pleasant. Anyone with a moment of free time would be a fool not to enjoy it.
So Kaveh's inside.
When he must be "home" at Alhaitham's - especially when Alhaitham himself is not home, when he is the only soul behind the door - he tries not to make a ruckus. Muttering to himself about his latest designs is fine, but loudly debating the merits of this roof line or that style of brick is not. Someone might overhear. And what business would a renowned architect have in the home of the Akademiya Scribe alone?
He's not even fighting with himself over architectural nuance today. In fact, anyone deliberately approaching the door (he is not. As a rule. Expecting anyone. No deliveries, no requests, no one even knows how to find him here, probably? Probably. Okay, some people know how to find him here, but he hates that and they don't bear thinking about) will hear...complaining. To Mehrak, theoretically, but who can say whether the automated case is really listening?
When someone knocks on the door?
He goes very, very still. Silent. Holding his breath.
Mehrak beeps in the worst possible friendly manner. Kaveh shouts and then puts a hand over his mouth. Thus kept from further incriminating noise, he sidles up to the door to peek out the window and hopefully miss the notice of ... whoever is out there.
(His heart is racing about it. Is it a student? Someone who was there this morning-? It's not Alhaitham, he has a key, but if someone else from the Akademiya followed him here or-)
Oh.
It's Aether.]
Uh.
[Well if that didn't give it away. Kaveh pulls the door open very slightly and peeks out.]
Alhaitham's not in.
[He sounds a little affronted by this. As if it's a personal insult.]
Ordinarily, the heat of the day hits its peak at a time like this. Vendors close up their stalls for a break from the sun and humidity; students hunker down in a dark corner of the Akademiya library or cluster together at a restaurant's table over cold drinks and something spicy, because an Akademiya student is always a little predisposed to inviting his own suffering. Sometimes, with the weather at its most contrary, a horrifically humid afternoon becomes a shower becomes a downpour, sending visitors and residents alike scuttling under awnings and into buildings.
Today that rain came early in the morning. Its passing gave the winding streets of the city (the roots of their edifice of knowledge, just as the Great Tree's roots support its trunk and branches) a fresh-washed shine and took enough heaviness from the air to make the afternoon pleasant. Anyone with a moment of free time would be a fool not to enjoy it.
So Kaveh's inside.
When he must be "home" at Alhaitham's - especially when Alhaitham himself is not home, when he is the only soul behind the door - he tries not to make a ruckus. Muttering to himself about his latest designs is fine, but loudly debating the merits of this roof line or that style of brick is not. Someone might overhear. And what business would a renowned architect have in the home of the Akademiya Scribe alone?
He's not even fighting with himself over architectural nuance today. In fact, anyone deliberately approaching the door (he is not. As a rule. Expecting anyone. No deliveries, no requests, no one even knows how to find him here, probably? Probably. Okay, some people know how to find him here, but he hates that and they don't bear thinking about) will hear...complaining. To Mehrak, theoretically, but who can say whether the automated case is really listening?
When someone knocks on the door?
He goes very, very still. Silent. Holding his breath.
Mehrak beeps in the worst possible friendly manner. Kaveh shouts and then puts a hand over his mouth. Thus kept from further incriminating noise, he sidles up to the door to peek out the window and hopefully miss the notice of ... whoever is out there.
(His heart is racing about it. Is it a student? Someone who was there this morning-? It's not Alhaitham, he has a key, but if someone else from the Akademiya followed him here or-)
Oh.
It's Aether.]
Uh.
[Well if that didn't give it away. Kaveh pulls the door open very slightly and peeks out.]
Alhaitham's not in.
[He sounds a little affronted by this. As if it's a personal insult.]