Phoenix's day was full of firsts, and it gave her an uncomfortable thrill. She felt so out of practice, playing hostess, that every little thing that was not up to par became glaringly apparent. She was proud of her home, proud of what she'd been able to do with absolutely nothing, while still caring for four little mutants. But now having someone look at it, someone who obviously was not a guttersnipe as tended to visit her from the Grey Cats, she seemed horribly lacking. Everything was worn, used, someone elses before it was her family's. The concrete floor, which she worked hard to keep clean and nice, suddenly seemed dingy and industrial. Her mother's voice sounded in her head, something that had not happened since her birth children's toddlerhoods. Look how you're living, her mother's voice, out of dumpsters! She shook her head to get the ghost chastisement out of her head. If Eliza did not yet know how mutants lived, then she might was well be under pretenses any longer. Mutants live out of dumpsters, Mother, she told herself.
"It's a lovely home," Eliza said, another first for Phoenix. No one had ever said she'd had a lovely home, not in this life, and not in her last life. If it was lovely, then it was not her doing, she knew, but that of her rather artistic children.
"Thank you," she replied quietly, as Eliza looked back at her to see if it was alright if she sat down. Phoenix motioned to the couch, and smiled. She wondered again at Eliza's host, that after the amount of time she'd been a mutant that she would have tired feet after walking for only the morning. Perhaps the ferret had been exaggerating about the amount of time she'd been mutated, perhaps it wasn't going on months, perhaps it only felt that way to her. If it had been going on months, then her host must be generous indeed if he was providing for her and her daughter, despite any reservations she felt from Eliza's very brief mentions of him, and what Phoenix had been able to surmise from the ferret's behavior.
Phoenix felt another bout of shame as Eliza sank into the couch, where one of the boys usually sat. Eliza sank into it, and not in a pleasant way, as the worn out springs gave underneath her, making it look as if the sofa was trying to eat her up. The ferret mutant seemed to take in good nature, however, with a chuckle, grabbing a pillow to stuff behind her back. That alleviated Phoenix's anxiety a little.
She crossed the 'room' toward the kitchen, passing her 'mantle' on the way, the bookshelf that held the bowl with her wedding set, now underneath the Kraang ball Medusa had found, and the vase with the juniper and catmint in it. She absently rearranged the foliage in the vase, to work off a little of the nervous energy that her anxiety had given her, and then reached the kitchen proper and began to boil some water in the kettle, a worn Corelle thing that still worked admirably, if it was rather dated, probably from the 70s.
Phoenix noted the smug tone in Eliza's voice when she said she was under no time constraints for this particular visit, and felt a knot of frustration begin to form in her chest. First, Eliza is helped by her host, who appeared to be sheltering her greatly from reality, but then at the same time didn't want her to anywhere. It didn't make sense to her. It is no concern of yours, she told herself, only your patient's issues. Stop being controlling.
"You're not keeping me from anything," she said. "This is just taking the leaves off of stalks to dry them. There isn't anything to it." And indeed, there wasn't, she'd had her own children doing it when they were toddlers, even Aries with his thick, three-fingered hands.
Getting two cups and a teapot out of the cupboard as she waited for the water to boil, she leaned on the table, chuckling at Eliza's wiggling ears, and asked in a teasing tone, "No curfew? What about your daughter?"
Eliza was happy that it sounded like she would have an opportunity to help out, even if it is just a simple task. The ferret had just bent down to slip off her makeshift boots, when Phoenix had posed her query about Gwyn. At that moment she was scowling unhappily because she had notice that the fur on her left foot was damp. It meant that not only was her design uncomfortable but that she had flubbed the construction as well and water had seeped in through a poorly sealed seam. She grabbed her scarf and started to dry herself as she distractedly answered.
"The whole gang went camping in the lower tunnels, apparently there is a whole network of caverns and abandoned passageways to explore. They were kind enough to let Gwyn go with them even when I couldn't." The silky scarf was a poor substitute for a proper towel but managed to get the job done. She examined her failed footwear briefly, taking a surreptitious sniff, before setting them to the side with her other things. She was relieved to discover that she hadn't stepped in anything unseemly.
"Actually," she drawled out the word and added a musical lilt to the syllables before dropping her voice in a conspiratorial manner. All the while looking at the Phoenix with a mischievous glint in her eye. "I may have mentioned the idea in passing, and well, you know kids. Once they get an idea in their head, it takes on a life of its own. And my Gwyn," she smiled and winked at her companion, "she can be very persuasive. Between the two of us it didn't take very much for the idea to spread and be adopted by everyone." She sat up a little straighter and slowly rubbed the inside of her right arm before placing her hands in her lap. She attempted to keep her tone upbeat. "So when I had to recuse myself from the outing, everything had already been planned and no one wanted to disappoint her. Rather than stay home with me they offered to let her still come along."
The ferret-woman shrugged her shoulders, feeling only slightly guilty for her well-planned manipulation. They had made the final decisions, she had only guided them in a direction that she would find favorable. "If they hadn't taken her along I would have brought Gwyn with me." It would have not been an ideal solution but tolerable. The important thing was to make sure she had been free to leave the lair without being questioned or waylayed. "But as it stands now, I don't expect them back until nightfall day after tomorrow." Eliza smiled and gave a slight shake of her head. "So… No. No curfew for this mamma."
Phoenix kept her smile, she liked the tone in Eliza's voice, and her mind whirred at the actual words. She was with a group of mutants, not just one. That was always a good thing, even if the group was a not-very-pleasant one. People were social creatures, the anthropomorphic mutants were not different, whether they were animal or humans before their transformation. Social creatures worked in social situations, even a stressful social situation was more desirable than a pleasant but lonely one. She trusted these people enough to leave her daughter with them for days, and going to another location. At 12, she would not have let her children go anywhere overnight with anyone, even with just themselves. They were not to leave the Haunted Warehouse District without her, even though she was quite sure they had ventured farther than they were supposed to on occasion. The level of trust that Eliza had for her host was impressive on that count alone. But then, Eliza would back up when she talked about him, she knew there was a him because Eliza had said so. She wasn't supposed to be going anywhere, she had intimated, albeit in a very round about way, that her host did not tolerate disobedience well.
You don't tolerate disobedience well, she told herself. A leader in this world could not tolerate disobedience, it would mean the doom of his group, or the death of one of its members. She felt a pull at her conscious, as if she were contributing to a lie. She did not like to consider herself a leader, but she knew others did, and that she expected to be obeyed, and obeyed immediately–the hallmark of someone who considers themselves a leader. However, she would never have encouraged anyone to disobey their own leader, even a Grey Cat, when making a bad decision. Chategris was the king of his little kingdom, what he said was law. It needed to be if the Grey Cats were going to survive.
Eliza was deliberately disobeying, she had connived to disobey. That did not sit well with Phoenix at all. Perhaps she is not disobeying, she consoled herself, perhaps she bending the spirit of the law. Following the spirit, but not the letter, of the law was a perfectly acceptable way to manipulate one's situation without actually disobeying, even in her world.
As the tea kettle began to whistle, Phoenix shooed the running thoughts from her head, they were her own, after all, and not the unbidden thought. She poured the water in the tea pot, using her own stash of iron tea to make the pot, before allowing it to steep.
"You are welcome to stay here, for as long as you like," Phoenix said. She gestured to the large floor, "There is plenty of room." She poured the tea into the two cups, and brought them over to the couch. Looking down at Eliza's footwear, she asked gently, "Did you make those?"
"Oh oh, please don't think I'm trying to impose myself." She sat straight and waved her hand while still holding it low, the gesture fast and almost frantic in her backpedaling. She was feeling high on the freedom of this moment and didn't want that to translate into rudeness. She smiled softly as Phoenix handed her the warm mug. "It's just nice not to rushed, especially when there is pleasant company to be enjoyed." She closed her eyes and inhaled the tea, enjoying the citrusy tang that greeted her. She opened her eyes again at Phoenix's question and had to follow her line of sight in the direction of her recently discarded boots.
"Yeah, attempt number three. No. Four." Eliza huffed and shook her head slightly. "And it looks like I'm back to the drawing board again. The seams spread more than I anticipated or the sealer I used wasn't the right kind. Either way they leaked and the whole point is to AVOID wet feet. It shouldn't be this hard besides the modified heal structure, but the balance never seems quite right." Eliza blew over her cup, before taking a tiny sip. It wasn't altogether unpleasant but had an after taste that would require getting used to it. At the moment though it was still too warm for her liking and so she set it on the table till it was a bit more tepid. "Granted, before this I'd never made any footwear more complicated than a soft flat or slipper. I'm still playing with the materials. Eventually I'd like to move to leather but not till I've got the form right. I haven't worked with it for years and I need to make sure it's worth the effort before I go that far. For now synthetics are good enough for pattern making and prototyping." She propped her elbow on her knee and rested her head on her fist.
"I think I may have to abandon the idea of supporting the heal all together, it's just too long and I seem to put most of my weight on the front pad and toes regardless. Hmmm… maybe something like a rubber moccasin would be better?" Eliza sat in silence, mulling over the idea, wondering if she could even pull off that type of fabrication. It was a little out of her experience but maybe she could get Donnie to help with the adhesive science. She would have to make a solid dummy form of her foot too, the wire and cloth one she was using wouldn't hold up to the rubber and glue and come out in one piece. She suddenly blinked rapidly, just realizing that she had been rambling on onesidely and then losing herself inside her own headspace.
She reached for her tea and took a larger sip to try and cover her embarrassment. After swallowing she gave a self-depreciating chuckle. "Sorry, guess I was rambling." She smiled as she scrambled for a change of topic. "Umm… the tea is good." She made a show of taking another sip, ignoring the slight bitterness. "Could I make it make it in a large batch and drink it cold? Like a sweet tea? Or will that reduce the effectiveness?"