[Vrenille is quite tactile, it's true--he's very used to touching people and to being touched. But he's also being free with Jericho in a way that he'd almost never be with a man who was simply a client. When it comes to that kind of work, every touch has something calculated behind it, even if it's calculated just to make him seem natural and uncalculated.
It's not the same as this, where he's guided simply by feeling glad to have Jericho stay for a while longer and a sense of affection and warmth towards him that he should...probably pause to reflect on at some point. Anyway, he doesn't reflect on it right now as he slips downstairs to collect the needed supplies.
Provided Jericho does not in fact fall asleep on his feet, when he steps back into the hallway, he'll find someone else just stepping around the corner. It's not Vrenille though, as the sound of footsteps might have better told if the person in question didn't seem to be taking pains to walk as softly as he could possible manage.
He's a giant--not a proverbial "giant of a man," but an actual giant: probably close to eight and a half feet tall with arms the size of tree trunks, he looks a bit cramped even with the house's tall ceilings and broadly build spaces. He's got skin the color of dark chocolate, but hair down to his shoulders that's bright as a polished copper penny and the same copper dusting of a light goatee. He's dressed only in his underwear, which is stitched of heavy woven cloth, and there are pale tribal-like tattoos that ring his shoulders down to his flanks.
The impression he gives overall is probably a bizarre mix of Norse, African, and Celtic. But perhaps the most bizarre thing is how this giant reacts to the surprise of coming around the corner and seeing Jericho there--as though despite the fact that he lives here, he's the one who's in the way.] Oh, I'm sorry. [Though deep, his voice is very soft spoken, and he seems embarrassed enough by the unexpected meeting that he'd withdraw right back down the hall...if that didn't risk being rude. Instead he sort of averts his eyes, so as to be sure not to stare.] I beg your pardon.
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It's not the same as this, where he's guided simply by feeling glad to have Jericho stay for a while longer and a sense of affection and warmth towards him that he should...probably pause to reflect on at some point. Anyway, he doesn't reflect on it right now as he slips downstairs to collect the needed supplies.
Provided Jericho does not in fact fall asleep on his feet, when he steps back into the hallway, he'll find someone else just stepping around the corner. It's not Vrenille though, as the sound of footsteps might have better told if the person in question didn't seem to be taking pains to walk as softly as he could possible manage.
He's a giant--not a proverbial "giant of a man," but an actual giant: probably close to eight and a half feet tall with arms the size of tree trunks, he looks a bit cramped even with the house's tall ceilings and broadly build spaces. He's got skin the color of dark chocolate, but hair down to his shoulders that's bright as a polished copper penny and the same copper dusting of a light goatee. He's dressed only in his underwear, which is stitched of heavy woven cloth, and there are pale tribal-like tattoos that ring his shoulders down to his flanks.
The impression he gives overall is probably a bizarre mix of Norse, African, and Celtic. But perhaps the most bizarre thing is how this giant reacts to the surprise of coming around the corner and seeing Jericho there--as though despite the fact that he lives here, he's the one who's in the way.] Oh, I'm sorry. [Though deep, his voice is very soft spoken, and he seems embarrassed enough by the unexpected meeting that he'd withdraw right back down the hall...if that didn't risk being rude. Instead he sort of averts his eyes, so as to be sure not to stare.] I beg your pardon.