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Gillian
Gillian stood as the door opened, comporting himself to meet the owner of the house and then relaxing as he realised that nobody was there. Or nobody appears to be here he reminded himself. His instincts prompted him to check the doorway for traps but his better judgement made him realise that this could give entirely the wrong impression if seen and in any case, the sense he was getting was that Oley was unlikely to incinerate casual visitors despite his slightly overdone taste for the theatrical.
He stepped through the doorway, wiped his feet on the mat, closed the door* and sat down on the first of the chairs apparently placed there for this purpose. He noticed the pullcord and, after a moment’s hesitation, pulled it.
OOC: * If possible. Also, unless there is an immediate response Gillian will sit for a while, contemplating the tiles and trying to work out how the light source works and also whether anything he is seeing is illusory.
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