The door to the workshop opened slightly as the door let out a soft creak. The man inside didn't seem bothered by this, the tall, ash blond figure sitting hunched over a messy desk, working on some fine machine with a loupe attached to his face. Books and metal bits were sprawled across the table, a gramophone playing quiet ambient music on the other side of the room. A drink of some sort was near it, though long forgotten and cooled.

Only the noise of footsteps roused the Hermit from his focus, giving an inquisitive tilt of the head to whoever (or whatever; he'd learned not to assume) entered his workspace.

"..hm?"