[ Well, this question in the face of his soon-to-be charitable action puts a bit of a damper on the whole thing. He shifts his weight – body and box – as he exhales in a manner suspiciously akin to a sigh, gaze briefly flicking skyward as if in question. ]
Don't you?
[ Does he have the address right? Isn't this a low income area? Based on the surroundings... well... ]
I'm here to make a donation but I can't do that through the door. Am I being sent away?
Please also do that quickly if you're planning to.
[A beat of silence. There's a jangle-- the chain on the door has been undone-- and a faint click to signal that the door itself has been unlocked, too.
(It could still be a hitman, but, hey: maybe he can get some free stuff and a good workout.)
Instead he seems a rather unassuming gentleman hefting what Travis assumes are the donations. He makes a face.]
Who's sending the donations? I didn't sign up for anything.
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no subject
Don't you?
[ Does he have the address right? Isn't this a low income area? Based on the surroundings... well... ]
I'm here to make a donation but I can't do that through the door. Am I being sent away?
Please also do that quickly if you're planning to.
no subject
(It could still be a hitman, but, hey: maybe he can get some free stuff and a good workout.)
Instead he seems a rather unassuming gentleman hefting what Travis assumes are the donations. He makes a face.]
Who's sending the donations? I didn't sign up for anything.