Dorian Kasen and Tilly Gelson's Duplex

Gelson's side       ||                                     Kasen's side



Tilly Gelson certainly did not require a door knocker. She never had company over, and if she were to receive packages a knocker would not be as easy to hear as a doorbell if she was in her pottery studio or woodshop--both of which being towards the back of the house. But, it seems that in a moment of absolute boredom she had decided to make a ceramic door knocker in the shape of a woodpecker. Well...it may as well get some sort of use. So, with the aforementioned knocker in hand, she walked out her front door and across her neighbor's driveway to knock on Dorian's front door. He seemed the social type.

Dorian answered the door in little more than work out shorts. He looked at Tilly first with surprise, then open confusion as he looked around to see if anyone had made her come over. Seeing no one, he decided to bite. He grinned broadly, honestly happy she was being friendly despite his confusion. "Good morning, Tilly. You're up early, as usual. To what do I owe this absolutely pleasure?" He stepped back a bit to motion inside. "Do you want to come inside? I've got muffins."

Instead of smiling, waving, or offering any actual form of greeting, Tilly held up the woodpecker like some sort of tribute. She made no move to enter the house, or even acknowledge his offer, instead only saying: "Don't need this." Translation: Do you want it? Do you know anyone else that would? If you do, I can actually install it, I have some time. Plus a few screws and a screwdriver in my pocket. Forgot to take them out last week, but they sure do come in handy.


"Wow, what a magnificent piece." Dorian seemed to speak Tilly as he reached out without hesitation to accept the offering and admire it in greater detail. Then he smiled at her. "I think I know of at least two people who would be interested in such a beauty, thank you. You truly are a master crafter. Please," he invited once more, motioning with his hand for her to enter.

Something in Tilly's posture softened when Dorian took the knocker. Her face was as carefully neutral as ever, but her stance was more relieved once she was certain her work would serve its purpose to someone. With that reassurance, the woman only showed the slightest hesitance before gliding past her neighbor into his living room, her uncovered eyes blatantly scanning the room.

Dorian didn't seem concerned with her investigating his home. He walked over to his kitchen area to set the knocker on the counter with great care, then tried it once experimentally. The soft clack made him smile. She really was very skilled, it always amazed him. He couldn't do anything crafty without instructions. "Do you want anything to drink?" he asked as he grabbed them both blueberry muffins.

Dorian's home was not necessarily a reflection of the man himself at first glance. It was clean but rather blank, as if he hadn't lived there long or didn't plan to stay long. The walls were still white and his furniture simple. A brown wood dining table with six chairs and a white tablecloth, two cream sofas facing each other over a wooden coffee table. He had a nice but not huge tv mounted on the wall where people could see it no matter where they sat. Other than that the room was surprisingly empty except for smaller details. On the table and a could of table stands along the walls were vases of flowers, most likely a set as they were all cobalt with nearly black silhouettes of dolphins on them. Each vase was filled but not overflowing with roses in pink, red, and white. Pictures of Dorian's friends frequented the walls. There was even one above one of the vases of flowers of Tilly, snapped while she was working outside. She was facing away from him carving something large. It was half formed at the time but the balance of the photo made it seem dreamy. Most of the photos were like that, as if he had taken pictures of dreams. The only ones not like that were ones he was in: a rowdy Christmas party at work, with a friend Tilly didn't know at an amusement park, and a few others. Though there were roughly two dozen in the main room alone, it did not seem haphazard or cluttered. The pictures had been hung with great thought and care.

"Juice." Tilly did not believe in coffee. The caffeine dependency and crashes just did not seem worth it to her. Her gaze flickered over the few personal items Dorian had in view, studiously ignoring the photograph of herself. She has no clue when he took it, but she supposed that single photograph was not too stalker-y given it's companions. Eventually her scrutiny settled upon the dining room set. Well, to be entirely honest, she glared at it. Tilly only looked away to shoot Dorian's sofas and coffee table an equally offended expression. "You need new furniture." Translation: I'll make you some. No, you don't get a say in the matter.

Dorian chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as he handed Tilly a cup of apple juice with the other. "I suppose it is a little old. I hadn't really bothered since I graduated college and got my own place. I... don't really have a reason to have anything fancy." He shrugged and went and retrieved their muffins, handing one to Tilly before leaning against the counter while he enjoyed his own. "I considered an area rug once," he added conversationally. "Couldn't decide on one I liked enough. I have a hard time really getting attached to any decor. The idea of just... buying it because it 'looked good' always made the consequential idea of having it feel hollow and meaningless."

Tilly took the juice and sipped it as she sat in one of the dining room chairs with a slight grimace. The lumbar support was terrible and the seat was iron-flat. She resolved to leave to start carving his new set the second her muffin was gone. "I won't charge you," she replied after taking the offered muffin.

"I consider it a dear favor though, so I am at the very least emotionally indebted to you." Once she was settled, he pulled out the chair next to her and sat down, learning toward her a bit, his customary easy smile in place. He had obviously finished his own muffin, as he was no longer holding it. "If you ever need anything, or want anything, just let me know, ok? It's very kind of you to help me out like this. I'll grow rather attached to it, if you make me something."

After nibbling on the muffin a bit, Tilly opened her mouth about as wide as it could go without being immediately uncomfortable and bit into the muffin without going all the way through--basically just holding it there--while she kept her glass of juice in one hand and used the other to lift the tablecloth and peer underneath for scuff marks and water rings. The cloth itself seemed clean enough, but if Dorian kept it there due to the amount of wear and use he gives the table instead of how boring it was, she would have to adjust the design she had in mind. Throughout all this, she largely ignored her neighbor's rambling. She knew he was the sentimental type. She was never going to cash in that debt, though. This new goal gave her something to do with her spare time without worrying about where to put the space-consuming project afterwards.

Seeing he was ultimately being ignored, Dorian let her look for another long moment, then promptly slammed his hand down on the part of the table she wasn't moving the cloth from, causing a sharp, and loud, crack noise. Since he was looking at her steadily, it was clearly meant to at least get her attention. Words didn't work apparently. "Thank you," he said, still smiling but the words and action was slightly tight now. He stood and politely motioned to the door. "I need to get ready for work now so unless you fancy seeing me naked, I will see you later Tilly."

The sudden noise not only caused Tilly to jump, but to bite through on her muffin, which she only barely caught with her previously-preoccupied-with-the-tablecloth hand. With one cheek puffed like a chipmunks as she chewed the too-large bite the woman gave Dorian a mild glare before washing down the mouthful with the last of her juice and placing the glass on the table. "The muffin's enough," she said in response to his wholly unnecessary gratitude before making a beeline for his door with the half-muffin in hand.

"I like our silent conversations," Dorian called to her before she could step outside. "I'm fluent in body language and you can be indifferent as you want-" He paused and smiled again, whatever irritation he had dissipating already. This is just the way she was, after all. "I'll still like you. And, Tilly... Thank you for not hiding."

Pausing in the doorway and blinking in shock, Tilly took a moment to bring her muffin-free hand from the doorknob to her right ear, noting that it was uncovered and the hair behind it was pulled back into her ponytail, still. Well, damn. With a slight tensing of her shoulders being the only sign of her embarrassment, Tilly shot out of Dorian's side of the duplex and into her own. Last thing she wanted was to be outside with her face exposed with cars and people passing by.

Dorian shook his head then set about fixing his tablecloth and putting away the couple of cups they had used. Tilly was a beautiful woman, he didn't understand why she was so self conscious about the right side of her face. Well, if she wanted to do that in public, he supposed that was a personal decision he had no right to comment on, but around him? Just him? He wished he knew how to make her understand there was no need. He wanted her to be as relaxed with him as she was in that picture, consumed by her craft. He sighed, then glanced at the clock. Seeing the time he nearly tripped over himself, stumbled a couple of steps, then hurried his way into the bedroom to get showered and dressed. It was barely 15 minutes before he was locking his door, straddling his bike, and hurrying off to BotO Sophie's Dinner for the morning coffee date.


BotO Athens Harbor
Blood of the Olympians