[ Asra takes the landing for a lower floor, and slows a little bt when he feels the tension of the missed step and stumble flutter between their arms. His fingers tightened, fractionally but palpable, on the wrist he gripped. A command running through touch, traveling up Julian's arm, to stay upright.
He slowed before a shabby-looking long placed opposite a room door identical to all the others on every floor they'd passed, glancing back and up to Julian again. ]
Follow me through. It'll be a little cold, but not... not unpleasant.
[ Still holding the other man's eyes, he reached out with his free hand to touch the surface of the mirror. Its surface rippled like water at the intrusion of his fingers, which sank past, and through... whatever manner of portal it was meant to be.
And then, more quickly, Asra ducked in, pulling Julian after himself.
The mirrored stuff was cool. Damp-feeling, though no wetness was left behind. And on the other side was a plain bricked room with neither windows nor doors but a twin to the mirror they'd stepped in from. But the walls were painted in lively pinks and purples, bleeding up into darker shades on the ceiling, which had been painted to remember familiar constellations. A few lamps like those from home hung from sconces on the wall, casting a low but golden light over an irregular pile of cushions in one corner, books stacked against the walls, and a few narrow tables set against the opposite wall to form worktables. They were scattered with papers and writing, and across them marched a series of fancifully-bound books with no titles on their spines. Journals, no doubt.
Above the worktables was pinned an impressively massive map, a list of ten names in big, bold print. The map itself was peppered with push-pins in a rainbow assortment of colors, some with notes, photos, ribbon-ends...
Asra picked his way over the broad spread of cushions like a cat, and eventually folded his legs to sit, releasing the join of their hands and breathing out a heavy whoosh of a sigh. ]
no subject
He slowed before a shabby-looking long placed opposite a room door identical to all the others on every floor they'd passed, glancing back and up to Julian again. ]
Follow me through. It'll be a little cold, but not... not unpleasant.
[ Still holding the other man's eyes, he reached out with his free hand to touch the surface of the mirror. Its surface rippled like water at the intrusion of his fingers, which sank past, and through... whatever manner of portal it was meant to be.
And then, more quickly, Asra ducked in, pulling Julian after himself.
The mirrored stuff was cool. Damp-feeling, though no wetness was left behind. And on the other side was a plain bricked room with neither windows nor doors but a twin to the mirror they'd stepped in from. But the walls were painted in lively pinks and purples, bleeding up into darker shades on the ceiling, which had been painted to remember familiar constellations. A few lamps like those from home hung from sconces on the wall, casting a low but golden light over an irregular pile of cushions in one corner, books stacked against the walls, and a few narrow tables set against the opposite wall to form worktables. They were scattered with papers and writing, and across them marched a series of fancifully-bound books with no titles on their spines. Journals, no doubt.
Above the worktables was pinned an impressively massive map, a list of ten names in big, bold print. The map itself was peppered with push-pins in a rainbow assortment of colors, some with notes, photos, ribbon-ends...
Asra picked his way over the broad spread of cushions like a cat, and eventually folded his legs to sit, releasing the join of their hands and breathing out a heavy whoosh of a sigh. ]
Sit. Gloves off, then give me your hands.