[He can come down right now, so he does that, bringing the record player along with a few choice records stacked on top.
His knock is quiet, mostly because he doesn't have a free hand and the angle is a bit awkward, and he doesn't want to kick the door.
In person, R is a tall, slim man of vaguely indeterminate age - he could be in his mid twenties, or his thirties - with a somewhat death-warmed-up pallor marked with the occasional dark vein. He dresses semi-smartly, in slacks and a shirt, and always with the same red tie.]
[Thrawn opens the door, which slides to the side instead of opening up in a more traditional manner. He too is tall, with glowing red eyes, prominent forehead ridges, and pale blue skin. He nods when he sees R at his door, and steps aside to let him into his combination office/cabin/art collection.]
[Why he's surprised when he was the one who came to the door is anyone's guess. He hugs the record player a little closer to his chest and steps inside when Thrawn moves.]
H-hi.
[Then he has a curious look around at what he can immediately see.]
[Thrawn gestures to allow entrance. His cabin is one of three rooms and a hallway leading out to the main ship. On one side is his dojo, a white paneled affair behind a glass viewing wall, where weaponry and heavy-looking killer robots rest. The other side leads to his office and sleeping quarters. All of it is in the sleek gunmetal gray of the ISD Chimaera, his true home.
It is into the office that Thrawn leads them. He has his art on plinths and in frames around it all, with a viewport open to reveal a nebula being orbited, a view reflected back up on deck. The office is dark, lit up in neon around the extremes of the room, casting eerie shadows about the room. There is an exceptionally large desk shaped like a half circle, on which Thrawn sets his fingers.]
[A little nod. He carries the record player through and puts it down near the edge of the desk, comfortably enough that it won't fall off.
R is self-conscious about many things about himself but when it come to his taste in music, that hesitation doesn't come into play. Thrawn himself clearly has his own preferences when it comes to art and so on - something he doesn't fail to notice.
He is trying not to be intimidated on a general level.]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2025-08-20 10:57 pm (UTC)[He can come down right now, so he does that, bringing the record player along with a few choice records stacked on top.
His knock is quiet, mostly because he doesn't have a free hand and the angle is a bit awkward, and he doesn't want to kick the door.
In person, R is a tall, slim man of vaguely indeterminate age - he could be in his mid twenties, or his thirties - with a somewhat death-warmed-up pallor marked with the occasional dark vein. He dresses semi-smartly, in slacks and a shirt, and always with the same red tie.]
no subject
Date: 2025-08-24 04:57 pm (UTC)Good day, R.
no subject
Date: 2025-08-24 09:35 pm (UTC)[Why he's surprised when he was the one who came to the door is anyone's guess. He hugs the record player a little closer to his chest and steps inside when Thrawn moves.]
H-hi.
[Then he has a curious look around at what he can immediately see.]
no subject
Date: 2025-08-27 11:49 pm (UTC)[Thrawn gestures to allow entrance. His cabin is one of three rooms and a hallway leading out to the main ship. On one side is his dojo, a white paneled affair behind a glass viewing wall, where weaponry and heavy-looking killer robots rest. The other side leads to his office and sleeping quarters. All of it is in the sleek gunmetal gray of the ISD Chimaera, his true home.
It is into the office that Thrawn leads them. He has his art on plinths and in frames around it all, with a viewport open to reveal a nebula being orbited, a view reflected back up on deck. The office is dark, lit up in neon around the extremes of the room, casting eerie shadows about the room. There is an exceptionally large desk shaped like a half circle, on which Thrawn sets his fingers.]
Over here.
no subject
Date: 2025-08-29 10:56 pm (UTC)R is self-conscious about many things about himself but when it come to his taste in music, that hesitation doesn't come into play. Thrawn himself clearly has his own preferences when it comes to art and so on - something he doesn't fail to notice.
He is trying not to be intimidated on a general level.]
Shall I... pick one?
[He did bring a few options.]