It's completely the last thing he was expecting, so she'll have to give him a few seconds to really take all of this in. When he does he has the grace to look embarrassed, closing the door and opening it sans chain. This really seems what it looks like: harmless, and even friendly.
{Thank you,} he signs, wincing when he realizes she probably can't understand. He holds his hands up as though telling her to hold her horses, and then just two fingers up about a centimeter apart from each other, trying to convey 'wait here', and maybe 'just a second'. Then he turns and walks back into the apartment, leaving the door slightly open.
It's a dark apartment, but it looks like the sort that might be very pleasant to visit in its heyday. It's been tastefully furnished, and there's places for people to sit. There's a few attractive bottles arranged by an empty chips-and-dip bowl on a side-bar, and a big TV with a comfortable couch. The only light source is the overhead light in the open dining room, and the table itself looks like a library vomited books, printouts, and papers all over it.
Cesar reappears, pushing the front door open a little wider. He has his tablet, now, and is typing.
Thank you very much for the chocolate. I'm sorry I don't have anything to give you back.
no subject
It's completely the last thing he was expecting, so she'll have to give him a few seconds to really take all of this in. When he does he has the grace to look embarrassed, closing the door and opening it sans chain. This really seems what it looks like: harmless, and even friendly.
{Thank you,} he signs, wincing when he realizes she probably can't understand. He holds his hands up as though telling her to hold her horses, and then just two fingers up about a centimeter apart from each other, trying to convey 'wait here', and maybe 'just a second'. Then he turns and walks back into the apartment, leaving the door slightly open.
It's a dark apartment, but it looks like the sort that might be very pleasant to visit in its heyday. It's been tastefully furnished, and there's places for people to sit. There's a few attractive bottles arranged by an empty chips-and-dip bowl on a side-bar, and a big TV with a comfortable couch. The only light source is the overhead light in the open dining room, and the table itself looks like a library vomited books, printouts, and papers all over it.
Cesar reappears, pushing the front door open a little wider. He has his tablet, now, and is typing.
Thank you very much for the chocolate. I'm sorry I don't have anything to give you back.