[Bolin turns and steps- is forced aside. Who knew that someone so much smaller than him could command such gusto. Pabu trills back to Fritter as if to say it isn't that bad but cozies up next to her for a warm little cuddle.
Bolin's warren is something close to the..uh.. approximation of a home. Like it was when Mako came, the chamber is about 10ft x 10ft and just deep enough for Bolin to stand, illuminated by three decently bright lunar lights. His bedroll lays neatly folded up against the far wall, a mix of straw mattress, disused velvet curtains from the club, and other assorted bedding he's collected. His desk, a wide plank of wood elevated about a foot off the ground on some stone, is strewn with Rocky Horror scripts, costumes and plans; and there is another 'table' with some various household tools. A pot and pan, some casks of water, his bags, clothes and some food.
There is no central fire pit, knowing that the smoke would suffocate him underground, but the first step down is black with char where he has had fire and been able to feed it from the door kept open a crack.
He's thought about all this. Quite a lot. And while Bo hasn't been down there very long, it's been long enough to source and install a series of copper pipes across the ceiling and through to street level for fresh air.
It's basic, with cold floors and walls, but it's dry and safe from detection and attack. The pipes create a draft which isn't great but mean he can breathe, and there are a few blobs of cooled magma on the ground near his bedroll and more by his desk which is how he's been staying warm.
What wasn't out before when Mako came is a small glass orb on a pad of moss with a red spider lily inside - laid carefully on the ground next to Bolin's bedroll.
Until just now, he'd been sitting on the floor at his desk sewing costumes and the bulk of material lays disturbed, needle half way through the lapel of a gold, sequin tailcoat.]
Well excuse me, judgy. If you can bend something better go right on ahead.
no subject
[Bolin turns and steps- is forced aside. Who knew that someone so much smaller than him could command such gusto. Pabu trills back to Fritter as if to say it isn't that bad but cozies up next to her for a warm little cuddle.
Bolin's warren is something close to the..uh.. approximation of a home. Like it was when Mako came, the chamber is about 10ft x 10ft and just deep enough for Bolin to stand, illuminated by three decently bright lunar lights. His bedroll lays neatly folded up against the far wall, a mix of straw mattress, disused velvet curtains from the club, and other assorted bedding he's collected. His desk, a wide plank of wood elevated about a foot off the ground on some stone, is strewn with Rocky Horror scripts, costumes and plans; and there is another 'table' with some various household tools. A pot and pan, some casks of water, his bags, clothes and some food.
There is no central fire pit, knowing that the smoke would suffocate him underground, but the first step down is black with char where he has had fire and been able to feed it from the door kept open a crack.
He's thought about all this. Quite a lot. And while Bo hasn't been down there very long, it's been long enough to source and install a series of copper pipes across the ceiling and through to street level for fresh air.
It's basic, with cold floors and walls, but it's dry and safe from detection and attack. The pipes create a draft which isn't great but mean he can breathe, and there are a few blobs of cooled magma on the ground near his bedroll and more by his desk which is how he's been staying warm.
What wasn't out before when Mako came is a small glass orb on a pad of moss with a red spider lily inside - laid carefully on the ground next to Bolin's bedroll.
Until just now, he'd been sitting on the floor at his desk sewing costumes and the bulk of material lays disturbed, needle half way through the lapel of a gold, sequin tailcoat.]
Well excuse me, judgy. If you can bend something better go right on ahead.