Manning Thorsen believes in (othala) wrote in repose,
Re: Wainright Manor: Iris M/Manning T/Misha B/Damian W
The size of it didn't stun Manning. There had been a time once when he'd traveled the halls of Hampton Court and Versailles, but the Manor wasn't either of those. It was not full of servants, of courtiers flirting from one place to the next, of the clacking of shoes on floorboards. It didn't scream wealth, loud and bellowing -- an assault on the senses -- but seemed to be mired in it. His gaze didn't linger, and he held Iris' hand through the rooms until they stopped at the smaller, and what was probably supposed to be more intimate, dining room.
He was dressed a touch more casual but upon seeing Damian and then Misha, was not entirely out of place. His long hair was pulled back into a short pony tail at the base of his skull. By close to half a foot, he was the largest one in the room both in height and breadth, but he didn't domineer the space as a man of his size could. He too, appeared to be in his thirties, but there were no lines around his eyes, nor his mouth.
Damian was exactly as he was on the journals, words crisp and perfunctory. Misha was -- Misha was the friendly one, the one that filled up the space with words that Damian left abandoned, and he smiled at them both as they made their introductions. And while he would have preferred to have sat next to Iris, he still extended out the wealth of his legs so his ankle touched hers. "Not much longer," he said warmly. "I came after I completed my doctorate." For all his long years, small talk was not his favorite, but he paused so her question could be answered, his gaze flitting between the two younger men before crossing to her and giving her a little wink.