[center][h1][color=olivedrab]Graham Booke[/color][/h1][/center][hr]

	
	"Would you like me to help you with that?" A young voice sounded.

	[color=olivedrab]"Why, how kind of you. But no thank you, I can carry it myself."[/color] said Graham, adjusting the decently sized bag he had shouldered as he left his quarters. The aid closed the door behind him. [color=olivedrab]"I hope you don't mind. One must take a delicate hand when it comes to canvas."[/color], he said as he patted the leather bag with a shaky hand.

	"Of course, Sir. Now, if you will follow me right this way I can help you to the common room."

	They proceeded to travel down the stairs to the common room, the younger man remaining close to the painter in case he needed assistance. [color=olivedrab]"I've never abode in a building as large as this one...how very gracious of your employers to allow us to house here."[/color] he said, continuing the small-talk as they progressed down the stairs. He had only been living in this new building for a few days. Only a few days after the death of his beloved brother had he moved in here, and as such the pain still weighed down in his mind. But he had to look past it. Dwelling on what could not be changed would only make things worse, or so it was his philosophy.

	"Yes Sir. Very gracious." the aid said as he remembered his wallet. He brought his attention back to his surroundings as they drew close to the common room. "Here you are Sir. Right over there is where your presence is requested."

	Graham looked over to the middle of the common room as he made his last step down the stairs. A group was now forming there. He had aimed to come a few minutes early, but seeing as he was not used to living in a home with more than a single group of steps, he seemed to misjudge his time of arrival. At least he wasn't late, though. [color=olivedrab]"Thank you, young man."[/color] he spoke as he shouldered the bag more correctly again, and made his way towards the center of the common room.

	The first person he noticed was potentially the oldest present man, besides himself, who adorned bright shades of various colors, and a turban upon his head. His tone seemed light-hearted, and he was being very friendly to everyone, despite the bad news that they would be late. Then the man asked that they all joined hands in prayer. Graham was never a god-fearing man, but he was never one to make rude gestures, or seem rude due to lack of gesture, either. He approached closer, making his place among the others. He lightly held out his unsteady hand to one of the people there, a young blonde woman who a moment ago had blurted out. She seemed on edge. [i]Perhaps the hand of an elderly man could calm her spirit[/i], Graham thought. He left his other hand free to join with others.

	Then there was a question: [color=BC8F8F]"What kind of game are you playing here?"[/color]

	[color=olivedrab]"Now, now. Who doesn't like games? I know I sure do."[/color] Graham said with a friendly smile.