Phoenix listened politely, "I know losing a spouse is very hard," she said quietly. "It is not something I would wish for anyone to go through." Thoughts of her Stephane, beautiful, his skin shining like chocolate, drifted gently into her consciousness, and then drifted out again just as gently. It was like someone she had dreamt of long ago.
Eliza's position financially took Phoenix by surprise. Unlike herself, Eliza VonHertz was not dead on paper. While the human who was Eliza VonHertz no longer exisisted, the person who could work from home as a day trader, who had a trust, who was financially taken care of enough that she could be a homebody and do volunteer work was not dead. This put the ferret in a position like no other mutant she had met or heard of. She had to bat away a jealousy at such a position. She had been hard pressed when she'd left the affluent lifestyle of her upbringing to marry Stephane, and then been hard pressed again when she left their lower class lifestyle for one of not even registering on the poverty line. But what good is money, she told herself in an effort to be kind, if you can't spend it. Eliza would never be able to go into a store to buy anything, never have an address to mail things to. She would still have to live in the shadows, and live in a world where money had little power or significance. And this woman was talking as if nothing had happened, like she could go on being a day trader and living on a trust fund, as if she hadn't been hit by mutagen and turned into a giant ferret.
Phoenix kept waiting for the part where her life as a 'giant ferret' began, and it never arrived. "You said that you've been a mutant for going on months now," she said casually, not looking up. She'd learned a long time ago, probably from one of the psychology journals she'd picked up as reading material, that doing a task with someone, and talking while not looking at them was a good way to get them to open up. Eliza seemed willing to open up, and psychologically she was such a paradox to Phoenix. "What have you been doing since then?" She placed the leaves she'd plucked off the stems onto the tray, filling it, and moving it to the side. She grabbed an empty one from the stack near them, and said, "Surely you've had adventures in what is going on months?"
Eliza shrugged her shoulders, her role in the lair was not a particularly exciting one, and she preferred it that way. "The adventures happen but I am not often part of them." She spent a moment or two in silence, simply stripping leaves, trying to think of someway to explain her limited life and not make it seem pathetic. She saw none.
"Part of the day I spend working on my business accounts. I do a lot of commodity speculation and currency trading. It doesn't take much movement for me maintain a small growth in my portfolio. Honestly I could probably diversify everything into bonds and not deal with it at all, but, well, it gives me something to do." Even in her own head she sounded pretentious. Eliza had lived most of her life working hard and scraping by. Grant's financial success came only after he was too sick to work a regular job. A lot of his efforts had gone into paying medical bills and setting aside the rest for them live off of after he was gone. In the end she had sat at his bedside doing the work for him and learning to see the patterns he did. She developed the patience to nurture what he had left them into a size that maintained them quite nicely. It was empty hollow work, but satisfying in that she was able to provide for her family and be generous in giving to others.
"But most of my time is spent with Gwyn, making sure she stays current with her education and piano skills or working on projects together. Beyond that I cook, clean and do whatever I can to help around the lair." She rubbed the inside of her arm again before returning to stripping leaves. She knew that part of her role was to be Donnie's sample supply and eventual guinea pig, but it was a fair trade to get her and Gwyn's lives back.
She glanced over at Phoenix and could tell that her answers were not particularly pleasing. She sighed with a bit of frustration but moved in a direction she would rather avoid. "The night I was mutated those aliens tried to kill Gwyn and capture me. So I stay hidden. Dangerous creatures come to life and escape the lab. I don't chase after them. Robots invade the lair and come inches away from cutting off my head as my daughter screams behind me, only to be stopped by a singular blade. I count my blessings. When the people who have taken us in and saved our lives ask for something, I give all that I can." She put the stalk she was working on down, knowing that she was just abusing the leaves. "And when their Master tells me to stay below. I do." She sighed and blew out what remained of her temper in a huff. "Or at least I did until last week." She felt a sense of guilt welling up knowing that Splinter would be extremely displeased with her being here, especially when she was doing it behind his back.
"If these are the kind of 'adventures' this life holds," She looked over at the healer, feeling deflated. "you'll have to forgive me for not seeking them out."
Phoenix listened, not really understanding what Eliza was saying about portfolios and diversifying and bonds. She had never had a hand in any of that, when she younger, her father and the company had taken care of all of the money matters. After she'd been married, there was no money to put in any portfolios after bills were paid and money went into the savings account.
Telling her about taking care of Gwyn brought a quick flash of her own children's childhoods back to her. When they were little, she spent her days in much the same way, lessons and working on projects together. Of course, by the time they were twelve, their lessons were long over. All four of them knew how to read, and do more than basic mathematics, and pursued their own interests, save their projects together. What had she spent her time doing when they were younger? Ah yes, trying to scavenge enough food to feed four mutants going through puberty.
She was disturbed slightly by the phrase, "I cook,clean and do whatever I can to help around the lair." It sounded too much like a maid, and not like a guest or a member of a household. Eliza looked up, and she saw the look on the ferret's face change. Her muzzle twisted in to one of frustration, and then she began to speak of her life now, as a mutant.
The Phoenix felt shame color her cheeks as she worked to keep her eyes on the ferret.
Had she been in this world so long that she no longer knew what a normal life was like? That she didn't know that being a giant talking animal was not what people grew up with, that having to fight off alien robots was not what people did every day? As Eliza kept talking, the Phoenix felt the heat in her face drift up past her eyes, and spill into her ears. How could she be so uncouth as to not see that her simple question, asked in conversation, would open such a floodgate.
The disgust in Eliza's voice was so apparent with her last statement, that Phoenix wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. Through the tightness that gripped her chest and throat she said quietly, "There is nothing to forgive." She knew that Eliza said it sarcastically, as a barb, but in order to not break down with embarrassment, the only thing she could think to do was to act as if it wasn't. "That is not something that I would ask anyone to seek out."
The ferret noticed the flush of red on the healer's face and the strained formality of her tone. It was apparent that she had gone too far and though she didn't deny the truth of what she had said she did feel bad for making her host uncomfortable. Unable to face her, Eliza looked away. She was putting her trust in this woman and truly wanted to become friends. Eliza needed a friend and was doing a poor job at making and being one. Maybe she needed to give it more time before unleashing her less appealing personality traits. She was at a lose as to how to respond. Eliza allowed the silence to fall heavy in the room, punctuated on by the sounds of leaves being stripped from steams as she resumed the task in front of them. She finished filling the tray in front of her before she found her voice again.
"I didn't mean to go off on you like that." She swallowed and snuck a glance over to her side where Phoenix sat. "Guess I'm being a bit sensitive. I usually have a much thicker skin than this." An uncomfortable short laugh slipped past her lips. "Or should I say pelt now?"
She continued to pluck leaves, they had made a significant dent in the pile and only a few trays remained. "Do you want to take these downstairs when we're finished?" She said with no real enthusiasm, just wanting to change topics.
"No, it's my fault," Phoenix said quickly, when Eliza looked away. It had been a long time since she'd been struck speechless, and an even longer time since she'd been struck speechless because of something she'd done. She knew her face was probably a shade of mauve, with her scars at her temples a bright white, making her look like Frankenstein's monster. The thought of her marred face made her blush deepen. "I asked the question."
She waved at the trays, "No, we don't have to take these downstairs for a while. The others won't be done for a bit." She saw the attempted change of subject, and couldn't think of anything else to say about it, so she grasped for the first thing she could think of.
"You don't know anything about me," she said, remembering their first encounter. "That's unusual for me." She wasn't sure how the mutants in the city found out about her, or what they said when they talked to each other. She had always guessed that someone ran into someone who told someone about this lady who went about the city helped mutants who were hurt. She recalled Jack Kurtzman's words, that one of the first things a mutant in NYC learned was about the Phoenix. Having someone who didn't know seemed to put in an uncomfortable position. Had she grown so used to being high and mighty? She hoped not, she liked to think of herself as kind, and thoughts of her rather selfish behaviors had to be shooed from her mind. "Do you have anything you'd like to know?"
Content to have the attention off of herself for the moment, a thousand questions floated through her mind. Why was a human willingly living in this situation? Was it because of the kids? Were they all hers from before? Why would she know anything about the Phoenix? Just how had all these mutants stayed hidden in a place like NYC? As each query came to mind it was easily dismissed. They didn't really matter. Phoenix was here, she helped mutants, she mothered mutants and from the way she carried herself it was obvious that she was a leader. This healer was an important member in a hidden community that Eliza now found herself a part of, willingly or not.
Perhaps her queries would be put to use in finding out about her skills and interests rather than her position and circumstances. She looked over at the smaller woman and pulled out a polite smile.
"Well I already know that you use herbal medicine, were you a nurse before?" Eliza thought for a moment longer, trying to find a more pleasant and personal inquiry. "Oh and what do you like to do for fun? Maybe we…" her thought was interrupted by a loud and undeniable growl coming from her midsection. She placed a hand on her stomach, her eyes widened and couldn't help but laugh at herself. "Sorry about that. I swear, just ate a few hours ago."
Phoenix shook her head, "No, I wasn't a nurse." She chuckled at the absurdity of the idea. "I was a poet. In fact, I didn't live here either," she remembered Eliza's babbling from her distraught heart on their first meeting. "I had been asked to read ." She hadn't thought about that night for years.
She smiled widely at Eliza's second question. "I love to dance." It sounded pretentious to her, so she added, "I meditate, and I practice my gymnastics," she gestured to the gym, "and I garden," she gestured to the window.
She laughed at Eliza's stomach growling. "I have been a poor hostess," She leapt up and bounded to the kitchen. "Would you like some canned salmon?" All formality was gone from her voice and gestures. She was proud of herself for having something that would be up a ferrets alley. "We found an entire case, and it won't last long with Arcos." She get chuckled again at the thought of her eldest son's predictable love of the caviar of bears. "You have to get it while it's still here."
"Wow, that is quite a jump from poet to medicine woman. But I guess life breeds necessity." Eliza thought over the many vocation changes she'd had and found it a little less surprising. You never really knew what opportunities life would present you with. Or challenges for that matter.
She nodded and smiled as Phoenix listed off her past-times. She found it somewhat amusing that mediation was among the list. Maybe having mutant children was so stressful that both she and Splinter had both resorted to communing with the universe to cope. It was a silly thought, one that she definitely wouldn't share, but made her snicker nonetheless. "The only dancing I ever did beyond my single years was with a mop as a partner." She laughed at her own joke as she gathered the last of the leaves and put them on the screen in front of her.
Eliza rose and followed the other woman at the mention of food. She hated to impose but there was no point in denying her hunger thanks to her traitorous body. Besides, she hadn't had fish in a while and it sounded good.
"You're fine." She waved off her friend's comment as her mind was already shuffling through a catalog of possibilities on how to use the canned salmon. Something quick and simple seemed the best route. "You said you like to garden, right? Well if you have any recent greens I could easily make us a salad." Eliza thought about the best types of seasonings to enhance the flavor. "It wouldn't take much, salt, pepper, mustard or mayo, onions and some kind of citrus to pull it all together. We could even use dandelion leaves if you don't have anything else."
She was getting excited about catering to a different pallet. They tended to trend more towards carbs at the lair and she was happy to have a plant option that was not algae. "It would stretch the meal out for the both of us and leave more for Acros or we could make a larger batch to share with everyone. As long as the salmon mix is kept cold and separate it will keep for a couple of days. It would make a good spread for a sandwich if someone would prefer it that way too." She was practically bouncing on her toes, as she waited for Phoenix to gather utensils and ingredients, observing and adjusting the recipe and proportions as the available options were revealed.