#silas:earth

[zzywrites]

@orchidwrites​ Existence... Such a fickle, arbitrary thing, isn’t it?

The man hummed to himself as he glanced at the sheet-covered mirror beside the black lounge chair he reclined in. His eyebrows knitted together, casting shadows over his pools for eyes, lost in thought. For a second, he seemed to have made a decision and lifted his hand to gently grasp the sheet as if to remove it from the mirror, but a moment of hesitation crept into him, and he let his hand fall to the armchair once again. 

“You had to make this a messy situation, didn’t you?” the fair Egyptian spoke with a melodious lilt about his voice, sighing as he eyed the covered mirror once again. The man shifted in his seat, pulling out a black leather wallet from his pocket. He flipped it open in one swift motion with his thumb and slipped out the plastic ID card settled in the front pocket. 

Silas Hatem Age: 30 Eye Color: Blue Height: 5′7 Silas turned the card over in his hand, admiring the craftwork of the counterfeiter that helped him exist in this world. 

A knock on the door caught him by surprise, but he stood up at once, tucking away the card back into its slot and slipping his wallet back into his pocket. He looked down at his clothes to make sure he was presentable, tucking in his black v-neck t-shirt in a place that it had come loose, and adjusted his leather jacket. His pants were of high quality, a crease running down the center, all the way to his black pointed dress shoes. When he was satisfied with his appearance, he ended with a quick hand through his slicked back hair, and patted the shaved sides of his head purely out of habit in his ‘for appearances’ sake’ checklist.

Once he was satisfied with checks down the list, he approached the door and peered through the peephole briefly. His buggy eyes narrowed for a second; he recognized the man standing at the door from glimpses of private conversations that he’d see periodically -- before the anti-reflection glass cover went up on all of the devices, the windows drawn shut, and the mirrors were covered.

Silas opened the door, flashing a brilliant smile at the man with a slight head tilt of curiosity. “Hello,” he began pleasantly, feigning ignorance to his identity as if he were someone new, “Can I help you? I’m afraid if you’re looking for my brother, Theo, he’s... Away right now. He may not be back for some time. I was just stopping by to grab him a few of his things and water his plants.”