Matias pouted slightly. "Well, I lived. Guess that counts as 'safe'." In the corner of his eye sat a folded-up chair, conveniently by the aforementioned work table. He approached it whilst stretching his arms over his head. He sighed as the audible cracks resonated through his body, giving him the energy to bravely fold open the chair with a "clunk". "[i]SiƩntate, cuerpo,[/i]" he muttered as he placed his body on the chair. He raised one eyebrow as his sight met the bag. It was a drawstring bag, stuffed like a Christmas present. He took the bag in both hands and laid it on his lap, opening it up. "I suppose I'm a little late," he said, "sorry about that, I guess. I had a... thing... happen, kept me up most of the night." He scratched his brow before digging in the bag. "Whatever. I'm just hoping I didn't miss much."