(ic inbox - PH.)

[abhorrently]

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[abhorrently]

"If you bring the supplies, you could come to my apartment. It's quiet. Not your house. Or somewhere more neutral if you prefer."

Whatever makes it more comfortable.

[graveling]

"I don't think I've gotten to see your apartment yet." There's something sheepish, and yet sly, underpinning that.

[abhorrently]

"Goldleaf building, 2E. I took the corner room before anyone could stop me. Come by any time."

Thankfully, she won't need to do much to make the place acceptable, and she's pretty sure Chills is stretching his wings somewhere. They'll have privacy.

[graveling]

"Give me about an hour, I think. There's a place to tie up a horse outside?"

Important questions, right?

[abhorrently]

"There's a tree, if that'll work."

[graveling]

"I think it will. See you soon."

Eventually, the sound of hoofbeats could be heard outside, and soon after there's a knock on her door.

[abhorrently]

She opens the door without preamble, stepping back so Angel can walk in. In contrast to some of the other apartments, she's tried to make it her own - new wallpaper, richly colored couch and armchair, a tiny fern by the window. A blanket folded on the couch, a strange cabinet in the corner with a circular mirror, not unlike a smaller version of the shrine at the temple she put in, the art on the walls being nature sketches from around the island. Little things, touches - it's someone trying to make this place her own, even as she's talked about things changing.

Also, a plainer wood chair set out with a cloth, so that there'll be a place to do all this.

"It's not as nice as the farm, but I don't need the space for bees like you do."

[graveling]

Angel has a small basket of eggs and some fresh vegetables in his hand as payment for her services. There's a mild look of surprise, and then approval, as he takes in the space. He takes a single horseradish from his basket, to leave it over at the shrine. As you do.

"You don't give yourself enough credit, I think."

[abhorrently]

It'll sit nicely, with the ball of twine, the failed attempts at lightning glass, and the second page of the latest Giazette.

"I don't really know what I'm doing, in any case. My companions all had their own tents and decorations and bits of themselves to carry, but not me. I just...slept by the fire."

Before she can go into that, she waves her hand - Angel's brought a gift, not payment, and she needs to get warm water at a point.

"Do you want to have your hair cut first, or the shave first?"

[graveling]

"Haircut, I think. I don't want it, like, military short, but I want it to be visible and clear that I made a choice, to get my hair cut."

[abhorrently]

"Come on, then - to the bathroom. We'll wash your hair first and then cut it."

Grabbing the chair for after, she beckons Angel to follow. The bathroom's less changed than the other rooms, but the towels are newer, and she kneels next to the tub to turn on the water, using her hand to measure when it's gotten warm enough.

"Tell me if it's too hot."

[graveling]

"It's not too hot." He doesn't even test the water before saying that. Look, he's a corpse, his nerves are mostly dead. Warm is good, is very, very good.

"I'm also thinking a tattoo at some point, but I'm not sure what."

[abhorrently]

"Where do you want it?"

Collecting water in a bowl she'd set out, she gently pours it on his head, free hand carding through his hair to make sure it's dampened.

[graveling]

"Maybe on my ass. Nice big letters, PROPERTY OF THE MOTHERS." He rumbles a little laugh. "Or maybe something on my chest. Something mine; I've got his two already."

[abhorrently]

She laughs too, grabbing the shampoo and applying it to his hair. Slow, gentle, massaging the scalp to work it in. He's trusting her to do this, so she owes Angel something worthy of that trust. To treat him with the care it deserves.

"You could even change his ones. Cover them somehow. Make them anew."

[graveling]

"Not the wings. I want to keep those, they're pretty. The other one, maybe."

He relaxes as she works, melting in an almost, almost human way.

[abhorrently]

She takes her time, feeling him unwind, pressing in a little more to encourage him to stay relaxed. This is not the agony of rebirth, but the luxury of choosing for the self. This is life, not survival.

"Whatever you choose, I want to know when you get it. I'll want to see how it came out."

The water gives off a little steam, as she pours it over his head again. Warm, rinsing away the day's traces, leaving the more herbal scent of the shampoo.

[graveling]

"Careful, or I'll bring you with me when I go get it." This is the most playful of 'threats', and he opens just one eye to see her reaction to it.

[abhorrently]

"Yeah? You'd have me come sit with you?"

Not that she'd mind that in the slightest. Her social calendar has been freer, lately.

[graveling]

The other eye opens.

"Dunno if you realize this, but you're one of my closest friends. Of course I'd have you come sit with me."

[abhorrently]

The look in her face is softer, kinder - the smile smaller, knowing he will not take it as anything less.

"Then consider it a promise. When you finally settle on what you want, I'll come with you and watch the whole thing."

She raises up a hand to shield his eyes from the water, if he won't close them. It's got to run clear before she's satisfied.

[graveling]

"Good. Awesome. Thank you." Both eyes close again and he continues turning into a puddle of melted wax under her fingers. "One idea I had, it's a little bit silly, is a few mushrooms growing next to flowers--the flowers Serranai gave my bees. Because the fungi break down rotting leaves and shit, leaving good soil for flowers to grow in, you know? The idea that...decay feeds the bloom."

[abhorrently]

"I don't think that's silly at all."

Working out the suds, it gives her another opportunity to press in little circles, in the spots where she knows she personally gets headaches. Not for him, not now.

"Life and death, hand in hand. It all comes back together. Out of the rot, something flourishes, fruits, and the flowers keep blooming. You might get even healthier plants. Here, sit up."

A towel for his hair, patting it through. It'll still be damp, but she can consider how to cut it, what he might like. It's got to be something he can live with, else they're going to need to run to the Temple and pray for Mom's help in making a corpse's hair grow.

[graveling]

He sits up as instructed, nodding as he hears her getting what he's talking about with the tattoo idea.

"That's exactly it. The seasons are a cycle, life is a cycle. Everything passes on. And even if I'm not part of that cycle in the immediate sense, I still serve it."

[abhorrently]

"Much more artistic than writing the names of the Mothers on your ass."

She tugs the edge of the towel down over his eyes and grins, before indicating he should get up and get in the chair. She's not tall enough to do this right with him standing.