I close my jaw, now aware that it had fallen open at what I was witnessing. How on earth did he get a clear passage of light into the bottom floor??? That would take the relocating of a few skyscrapers, not to mention all the vines that would have to be removed! The house and its greenery are astonishing, yes, but nowhere near as hard to get... on the first floor. I look up, distinctly remembering there being a building above this.

"What are you waiting for? Hurry up!" I break my gaze on the hard to make out darkness that is above and speed walk over to him. While I wasn't looking he'd made his way up to the house, and was now unlocking the door with a key and a series of complicated facial expressions I could not decipher. It appeared to be quite the complex lock too, as he turned the key all manner of ways and yet it still would not open.

While he's Struggling withunlocking the door I look a bit closer at the flora and fauna. I kneel down to examine them better, and discover that they're made out of thread. Not real grass then, even though it acts like it. It's very well made too, the threads interlocking in such a way that it mimics normal grass. Fascinating.

"AHA!" He finally turns the key a certain direction, and a weighty 'clunk' is heard. He pushes open the door, and gestures inside with his other arm.

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"C'mon in!"

I oblige, and both of me walk inside. The interior is made of a dark wood- no, thin threads that have been shaped to mimic wood. The walls are flat-ish, also being made of incredibly thin threads. The carpet is normal. I walk up to a chair and a fireplace, which isn't lit. Both are made entirely out of thread.

"You like my furniture?"

"It's pretty nice." Says leading me.

"The chair feels weird. Feels softer than wood."

"Oh really? Again?" He raises an eyebrow and walks over. Running his hand over the chair he frowns.

"Ack. I was trying to ignore it, but I guess the threads really have almost come undone after all these years." Years? He must have a pretty good [Skill] for it to pull that off. Seems to be something to do with threads, even though he looks like a melee fighter with that giant sword on his back.

He closes his eyes, and an intense look of concentration overtakes him. The chair he's touching begins to shift, coming undone and revealing itself to indeed be made out of many interlocking threads. The instability spreads from the chair to the floor, and within moments the entire room is a giant mess of thin floating threads. Somehow, we-I remain untouched, the floor beneath our feet not moving an inch despite the chaos around it.

I stay perfectly still unmoving, not wanting to interrupt whatever he's doing and get killed for it.

unfinished