Dorian caught that look, knew it intimately, and bowed his head with another near-sheepish smile. "They do look rather comfortable," he mentioned, looking to the beanbags, before heading that direction. Setting his books down beside one, he silently wondered to himself the same thing he wondered as he walked in. Would smoking be allowed? Looking around as he sat down in a dark green beanbag - sprawling, really - He caught a chance glimpse at several customers who also had cigarettes and pipes lit, so he lit one up for himself, looking up at the ceiling.
Hm. It seemed as if someone had been drawing a sketch on it. Perhaps soon, there would be a mural. That, or it was very pretty vandalism.
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