[ True to form, upon delivery of his utterly lunatic sentiments, Set gets into absolutely everything he can lay his hands upon. Liem's bed? Wrinkled by him bouncing onto it briefly. The rugs? Slightly off-kilter, as he darts across them and kicks up a corner or two in his wake, leaving them to overlap misshapenly. The nightstand is left alone, in favor of a brief pawing through books — gazing at their spines, looking for which ones have the most wear around the edges. The shrine, he does not approach.

Yet.

Instead, he goes for that sliver of light. Closet, found! ] A-ha!

[ The exclamation of victorious finding comes in the wake of Liem's small 'thank you', the soft flow of Set's hair ( trimmed up to his shoulderblades, from the knee-length sheet it had once been — for there was no salvaging it, after his skirmishes under the Tree ) drapes over his shoulder. It falls across his vision, half-obscuring the expression that creeps along his mouth and eyes, something that existed to be unclassified by mortal eyes. ]

I came early enough for this. Two hours, to prepare you and reach the venue before seating begins. If you select your clothes, I can do your hair. Galeniel picks my clothes, but this [ he touches his face, the dusky shadow and iconic, sharp angles of kohl around his eyes ] I do, myself.