When Figaro heard the tell-tale signs of the door opening, the one that lead to the Pirate Tardis, as they sometimes referred to it, and Willem coming out from visiting his father, they would call out, “YO WILL! Can you come to the studio for a sec, we got some important business to discuss.”
And if he did come through, if he didn’t just go straight to his wall-hide out to hang out with Hansel again, there would be the core four of the house - and finally the fifth with Willem in there. Figaro, sitting on the window sill, painting on themself with Gep’s paints. Gep himself, sitting on his usual stool, a bright and happy expression on his face - he never was good at hiding his emotions. Young Gep, fetching the apprentace stool for Willem and then going to his usual spot in the corner. And Diana, sitting on the floor, legs splayed wide under skirts like a sort of rag doll, going through a bucket of different eye colors trying to decide which ones she wanted for the day.
“Take a seat, my boy! I’ve got an offer for you,” Gep said, pointing towards the stool. The mood in the room was very, very happy. Whether it remained that way would be up to Willem. “Do you have any plans for the summer?”
