A couple of weeks ago, Benji came home asking for help to bring a tank upstairs, one that a spider was due to live in. She'd been apologetic-- "I was thinking of getting a bird, or a plant..."-- but very taken with the idea of owning a tarantula. She'd been declared as 'Hannah'. Sometimes, the eight-legged pet is taken from the tank, but often goes unhandled, content to feed her grasshoppers and watch her navigate hills of dirt, branches, an upside down plant pot.
Her work hours are erratic, tailored to suit the needs of those she visits to tutor, which is sometimes in the early evening, sometimes on the weekends, sometimes in the morning and leaving her afternoon free. She brings books home from the library, invites Shrieky to sit down with her, shows passages that she likes in particular, tries to get him to enjoy reading more as he improves. Benji will wander Baedal, a lot, and take opportunities to nap; she sleeps more than most people, and probably for good reason.
Sometimes she will be moved to use the kitchen for more than just simple meals. Baking is more her area, although she has attempted to cook dinner for everyone before, something English and fishy and acrid that only the resident Mermaid liked, but she does better with desserts. Dense fruit slices with flaky pastry, pies and ganache, truffles made of chocolate and cookies rolled in dried coconut. Breads with spices to accompany the Middle Eastern meals Wolfgang might create. As the weather continues warmer, one can find sealed jugs of sangria in the fridge, using pale wines and mint leaves and lemon or lime slices clinging to the wet glass from the inside. Iced teas.
Despite the people she lives with, her wardrobe doesn't spontaneously become more exciting, almost more conscious of herself when surrounded by butterfly people. The exception is the inclusion of a silk robe that is a stunning shade of icy blue with embroidery, but didn't cost so much that she can't swan around in it over less exciting shirt and pants when she isn't going out anywhere. A dress was bought, sleek and black, and has since lived in her wardrobe.
She is used to communal living, and tidies if she can see it. She reads a lot to pass the time, outside and inside, in shared space as well as her room, freely coaxed into doing other things when asked or invited, whether it's a simple conversation or leaving the house to go somewhere. If she needs time to herself, she retreats to her room, usually in sudden fits of homesickness.
Then there are dreams. She makes a point not to invade the heads of her housemates in any regular fashion, but there are exceptions. The standardised attempts to lessen Shrieky's nightmares, but Philomena and Wolfgang may be visited as well, just to say 'hi' or smooth a rumpled dream, whether letting them know she is there or not. She can usually sense whether her presence is wanted; unwanted invasions may mean a note left beneath their door the next morning.
Sorry! :( - B
Dreams sometimes drive her out of sleep. She will be found downstairs, in the kitchen or outside, bare foot and drinking tea or wine or simply milk, sometimes frazzled, sometimes serene, sometimes not wholly there.
no subject
Her work hours are erratic, tailored to suit the needs of those she visits to tutor, which is sometimes in the early evening, sometimes on the weekends, sometimes in the morning and leaving her afternoon free. She brings books home from the library, invites Shrieky to sit down with her, shows passages that she likes in particular, tries to get him to enjoy reading more as he improves. Benji will wander Baedal, a lot, and take opportunities to nap; she sleeps more than most people, and probably for good reason.
Sometimes she will be moved to use the kitchen for more than just simple meals. Baking is more her area, although she has attempted to cook dinner for everyone before, something English and fishy and acrid that only the resident Mermaid liked, but she does better with desserts. Dense fruit slices with flaky pastry, pies and ganache, truffles made of chocolate and cookies rolled in dried coconut. Breads with spices to accompany the Middle Eastern meals Wolfgang might create. As the weather continues warmer, one can find sealed jugs of sangria in the fridge, using pale wines and mint leaves and lemon or lime slices clinging to the wet glass from the inside. Iced teas.
Despite the people she lives with, her wardrobe doesn't spontaneously become more exciting, almost more conscious of herself when surrounded by butterfly people. The exception is the inclusion of a silk robe that is a stunning shade of icy blue with embroidery, but didn't cost so much that she can't swan around in it over less exciting shirt and pants when she isn't going out anywhere. A dress was bought, sleek and black, and has since lived in her wardrobe.
She is used to communal living, and tidies if she can see it. She reads a lot to pass the time, outside and inside, in shared space as well as her room, freely coaxed into doing other things when asked or invited, whether it's a simple conversation or leaving the house to go somewhere. If she needs time to herself, she retreats to her room, usually in sudden fits of homesickness.
Then there are dreams. She makes a point not to invade the heads of her housemates in any regular fashion, but there are exceptions. The standardised attempts to lessen Shrieky's nightmares, but Philomena and Wolfgang may be visited as well, just to say 'hi' or smooth a rumpled dream, whether letting them know she is there or not. She can usually sense whether her presence is wanted; unwanted invasions may mean a note left beneath their door the next morning.
Sorry! :( - B
Dreams sometimes drive her out of sleep. She will be found downstairs, in the kitchen or outside, bare foot and drinking tea or wine or simply milk, sometimes frazzled, sometimes serene, sometimes not wholly there.