[ Alex had been letting himself go, the last week or so, beard a little longer than usual and hair a little poofier - but that isn't the case now. He's meticulously groomed himself, half out of nerves and half out of stalling while he tried to figure out how to do this. But in the end this was something he had to do, because he couldn't leave things as they were. He wasn't going to be the cause for a rift in his family if he could help it. Especially when he'd finally figured out that he was wrong.
So it was that he found himself outside of Amos' door, one arm still in a sling and the other holding a plate from the mess hall with a weird layered thing that looked vaguely reminiscent of a cake, if cakes came in flesh colours.
He realised when he got there that he didn't have a hand to knock with, and sighed to himself, before carefully reaching out with a magboot and tapping the door with his toe.]
A couple days after the shit storm
So it was that he found himself outside of Amos' door, one arm still in a sling and the other holding a plate from the mess hall with a weird layered thing that looked vaguely reminiscent of a cake, if cakes came in flesh colours.
He realised when he got there that he didn't have a hand to knock with, and sighed to himself, before carefully reaching out with a magboot and tapping the door with his toe.]
Uh... Amos, you in there?