ROLEPLAY HQ - divine-come-knocking

It happened as the sun went down. The air became charged, like the extra static before a storm. A general miasma of unease begins to fall. Some unplacable pressure beginning to build. And then a great Pop, that shook the ground with the force of /something/ depressurizing. Car alarms went off in unison, as a body hits asphalt. Their entry into this world is not graceful. There are no trumpets, no round-cheeked cherubs, not even an ounce of grace given to them as they slide along rough road. There is a fluttering mass of wings that follow them, shedding glittering, oil-like scales that come off in billows. Their pale, faintly luminescent body lays naked, leaking thick black tar in places where their skin has burn or been shorn away. Burning, still burning, some wings beat the ground violently as flame eats away at them, others are bent at odd angles and no longer move. They lay on their side and wail, piercing and sad, inhuman in sound and more akin to a windchime in a tornado. They wail and scream, and thrash their way along the ground, eyes fixating on a single source of light, attached to some house, the lawn of which they drag their body along. The light, they cannot reach or even get their legs underneath themself long enough to try, is what their blank, glowing white eyes fixate on. They attempt to climb the front door with their nails, talons that scrabble and chip at the paint to try and find purchase. And more pitiful wailing when they cannot even have that.

The house Quinn had rented for medical school years in was tiny, more like a cottage, really. One bedroom, a living room the size of a bedroom, and a tiny kitchenette, its only distinguishable trait from an apartment being its single-unit nature. They passed days and nights there when not at class, studying for their boards in the nice, peaceful neighbourhood they'd managed to land themself in. Well, usually nice and peaceful. Tonight, not so much. At first, they dismissed their unease as nerves around their future in their program - they could not afford to slip up this late in the game - then they assumed the noises, and even the shaking of the house, as a thunderstorm. Car alarms had gone off all the time in the city, when they had studied in undergrad. Then the screams started, and they couldn't keep their curiosity at bay. Not having a weapon handy, they gripped their pen in hand like it was the blade of a knife and crept out of their bedroom. The screams were getting closer, and Quinn knew they'd made a mistake, leaving the porch light on. They peeked out the window at - what on Earth was that?! Some creature, letting out the strangest noise, incomprehensible and... bleeding. Quinn sighed and dropped the pen, opening the door. For a moment longer, they stared out at the strange creature. From what Quinn could see at this distance, this... whatever... was badly hurt. Or maybe they had dozed off while studying, and this was all a very, very fucked-up dream. Well, no reality, no risk, right? They took a hesitant step toward the stranger, holding out a hand. Humanoid in shape, from what they could tell. Really, the thing to do would have been to call an ambulance. Instead, they spoke to the injured being. "Hey, uh... it's alright?" This did not look alright. Maybe their schooling hadn't prepared them for this, after all. "Come in and I'll patch you up?" Quinn tried again. They could only hope this being understood English and wouldn't attack. (edited)

4:12 PM

@🖤crow🖤

It's like a switch goes off in their brain. Their open mouthed shrieking begin to shape words, still grasping spinelessly at the light. "-god, oh God. Home! Go home! Help, God, Home, sorry! They're sorry!" They are losing energy, fast. That dim light they exude is starting to fade. Entire wings begin to shed off them, disintegrating into ashy smudges on the porch. They are looking... slightly less bizarre by the minute, their extra pieces seeming to decay off them. Presenting a thin, ashen, dirty body, with matted long hair, and only one pair of broken wings left. Androgynous, lacking obvious genitalia. There are two pairs of vestigial, spiny legs that protrude from their ribs, touching Quinn like feelers, fuzzy with soft hairs. The human pair of hands on them grasp clumsily at the one Quinn offers them, seeming lost in what they're meant to do. All they can manage is shuffling forward on their bleeding knees. "Sorry, so sorry. Forgive them. Help." @Al the Killer

Nope, understanding the words did not, in fact, make this any less weird. Quinn flinched back from the spiny feelers, reminded too much of insect legs. They'd always hated bugs. The hands were fine, though. Quinn swallowed nervously, trying to figure out why this person was saying those words. They didn't make a whole lot of sense, but seemed less important than the wounds apparent on the stranger's filthy body. "I... forgive you?" Quinn attempted, offering the most awkward smile they'd ever managed in their life, lopsided and all teeth. And they'd managed some awkward smiles before, with the photographic evidence to prove it. "Come on, let's... please keep all vestigial limbs to yourself." With a grimace, they reached down, trying to lift this being as much as possible, or at least to support them on the way inside. Easier said than done; Quinn had never had much upper body strength, and it often showed. @🖤crow🖤

They aren't especially heavy. And the spidery legs begin to assist, when the humanoid ones are still failing them. The forgiveness, though not exactly from who they wished it to be, seemed to quiet their begging. Their extra legs really do the heavy lifting here, gracefully touching the door frame, the walls, especially as the creature's milky eyes stare without focus ahead of them. Only diverting from that thousand yard stare to flick at every source of light they pass. Their mouth is held slack, panting in the exertion of movement. "Help them? You are help them?" They are processing, slowly. Beginning to feel the extent of their injuries, awareness being drug to the present by the sheer unpleasantness of existence as it was. Mind joining body fashionably late. The body is simply there, weeping and on autopilot, to be led. @Al the Killer

Not vestigial after all, then. Good to know. Quinn looked back over their shoulder as they led the stranger, backwards, into the small kitchen area. The dirt and blood would definitely be a pain to clean, but at least the floor was linoleum. They wouldn't bring this injured stranger anywhere near the living room carpet, though. Quinn's own breathing had grown heavy as they brought them over to a small table with two chairs, of which they only ever used one. "Yes, I am here to help... them," they agreed as they attempted to lift the stranger into the usually-unoccupied chair. "Just sit still." Quinn paused to catch their breath fully, just now realizing how out of shape they truly were. After a moment, they stepped close to the stranger, looking over just what was immediate obvious at first. "Can I take a closer look at your injuries?" they asked, not wanting to startle this stranger by poking and prodding at their body too soon. Questions about how and why could wait until they were more lucid. "I need to see what I'm dealing with before I can start to patch you up."

5:02 PM

@🖤crow🖤

Lowered to sit in the chair, they rest there, placid, awkward with their body. There is a decent amount of road burn on their front, though least concerning of the situation. More alarming is where their skin- their /shell/ is caved in, cracked like porcelain. There is a patch missing on the hollow of their cheek, a pinky finger missing here, some toes gone there. And at the center, a great mass missing from their stomach. It does not penetrate straight through them, rather present wet inky inside, peppered with flickers of starlight. It's not exactly flesh. But whatever it is oozes where there is not shell to contain it. Soft human skin on outside, an greenish ivory shell inside. No muscle, no bone. The body is built like a building facade, unnecessary detail omitted past the first layer. "You can look. They don't care. Nothing matter. Dead now. God hate them." Their lower lip begins to pooch out, being drawn back to their sorrow. At least the speech is getting better. They look at their hands, particularly where their pinky has gone. "...Hunger " @Al the Killer

All this education, and Quinn might as well have thrown everything they thought they knew about medicine out the window. Their brows furrowed as they pressed a finger to the caved-in shell on the stranger's face, trying to get an idea of the make and texture. It wasn't quite like anything Quinn had ever seen before, and certainly not on a person. "Does this hurt?" They regarded the stranger as carefully as possible. "The missing digits may be beyond recovery, but I don't know your healing capacity." That felt weird just saying it. Quinn pulled back, eyes focusing on the stranger's. "No. You're alive," they said firmly, then looked down at the gaping stomach hole. "...Somehow. Can you even eat like that?" Not the best bedside manner, but this was a weird situation, so Quinn could forgive themself that much. Should they use bandages? Superglue? Patch up the holes with whatever was handy and hope for the best? They sighed and looked around. The house was an utter mess, and they couldn't remember the last time they had washed dishes or swept the floor. A poor condition for a building with a guest in it, and likely untidy enough that finding the first aid kit would be a challenge. "Wait here. I'll see what I can do." Quinn turned to search under the kitchen sink first. (edited)

"Hurt," they confirm, mouth puckering, but forcing themself to sit ramrod still. Their stomach, they look down at, hands flexing like they want to rub but are afraid to try. "Eat eat eat. Hungry." As Quinn's attention is shifted away from them, their feelers begin to unfurl into the room, searching. Though the appendages have no visible means of grasping, when they come in contact with the floor, the dust and dirt begins to ball together with weak psychic energy. When a ball is big enough, it is drawn in, and snatched by the creature, crammed into their mouth. They have never been so hungry. The taste of soil and dust bunnies is unfamiliar but delicious considering all they had been through. One ball, two ball. Little by little the gaping hole in their stomach begins to crystallize around the edges, growing new material. They stand up, forgetting instructions in their sheer excitement. The dishes in the sink look good, and they begin taking wobbling steps to get over there, try to navigate around Quinn to get at the mess. At least the feelers seem to remember Quinn's words, and fold in to avoid brushing them. @Al the Killer

Quinn was so absorbed in the search that they didn't notice anything else going on around them. They hadn't actually needed to patch anyone up at home... ever, so the kit was hidden behind the bulk bottles of vegetable oil and vinegar that they also hadn't used since the last time they'd cooked at home instead of ordering takeout. So, quite some time. They shifted around the bottles and clinging supplies that probably shouldn't have been stored together in hindsight, until they finally grasped the small blue box's handle. In all honesty, they doubted some gauze bandages and medical tape would help a whole lot, but this scenario had not been covered in medical school, so an actual doctor would have no better luck. They stood again and turned back toward the stranger, then jumped. The stranger had moved without Quinn noticing and stood closer now. They tensed a bit, before their gaze wandered around the room. It was... clean? How? "Did, uh... did you find something to eat?" Quinn sidled off to the side as they asked the question, so this stranger could access the dishes they seemed to be aiming for. Once out of the way, they looked toward the hole in the stranger's stomach. Had it gotten smaller? Quinn observed carefully, to see if their theory was right. A weird, vaguely horrifying entity who ate by cleaning the house? They'd definitely had worse roommates before. "Is that helping you heal? I can also patch you up?" They watched the stranger with the dishes. "Do you want to stay here for a while? I only have one bedroom, but the futon is available." Besides, there was no way this wasn't a weird dream. @🖤crow🖤

A glass is their first target, undergoing a quick sniff and lick test. The dark tongue that appears to lap inside the glass seems much longer than it ought to be. The glass seems insoluble, no matter how much they try to scrape at it, despite looking shiny, like suspended water. The creature's mouth puckers again and they start testing their sharp, needle point teeth on it. Tink tink tink. Unwilling to break their teeth on this new food, they simply crack it apart on the counter. Wholly focused on their mission, and not really what their gracious host is saying. Shards of glass explode in their hand, and the feelers are swift to start gathering the crumbs, smaller pieces in their mouth, but larger ones being fed directly into the hole in their stomach. Sure, breaking the glass may cut their feeble outer layer, but the losses are being filled in quickly, wounds shrinking the more mass they take in. A little less hungry, they look up at Quinn, eyes round. "Stay here? Can stay here?" Their face, having been blank so far, begins to bloom into a wide, slightly rabid grin. "Friend?" @Al the Killer

Immediately after making the offer, Quinn realized the drawbacks. "Can you-?" They cringed at the sound of breaking glass. "-Not do that, please? Dishes are expensive, and I don't want you to hurt yourself again." But as they watched, consuming the glass seemed to heal this strange creature, making Quinn's job of healing them a lot easier. Fine, they could have that one, Quinn supposed. They sighed. "Alright, just finish eating the whole thing, then no more glass." Quinn returned the smile, a bit less awkward now that some of their initial horror at seeing this being had faded. "Roommates, sure," they promised. Then, because they didn't want to sound like an asshole, "and friends. What should I call you?" Because 'weird entity that crash-landed in front of my house' wasn't gonna cut it. "My name is Quinn." They looked around once more at the considerably-cleaner kitchen, then moved to sit at the other chair, setting the first aid kit on the table. Maybe it wouldn't even be necessary, if their new roommate could eat their fill of dirt. @🖤crow🖤

They deflate a little at the admonishment, but all the legs work to collect the remaining crumbs and stash them away. The creature settles for only /licking/ all the dishes clean with a rough, dutiful tongue. Pausing only to respond, "I'nae!" The first part of that name being a 'ee' vocalization. At least they came with a name. Once the dishes are all clean, they wander back over to where Quinn has sat, standing in front of them to look curiously into the box. Their legs have gotten stronger. They look down at the remaining holes and missing digits, examining the thickness of their shell, and then slowly, the material seems to stretch, and thin out to cover the wounds. Not durable by any means, but an attempt to stop the leaking. In the end, they have only a baseball sized hole in the stomach, and a coin sized hole in the face. More manageable. "Good? Good for Quinn Roomate-Friend?" I'nae at least displays an understanding of the assignment here, glancing at the tar track path they have made into the kitchen. @Al the Killer

Quinn silently reminded themself to fully clean the dishes later anyway. They weren't sure whether beings such as this one could carry and transmit diseases to humans, but they also didn't want to find out through experience. For now, they opened the box and, noticing I'nae's curiosity, held it out to them. After a moment, they set it down and gathered the scissors, gauze pads, and medical tape. It wouldn't be much, but it was the best they could manage with no understanding of this type of anatomy. "Yes, this will make it easier. Thank you, I'nae." They pressed the larger gauze to the stomach hole first, as bigger wounds took higher priority. That much, at least, they could trust to still be applicable. "So, um..." They hesitated, unsure of the most tactful way to ask. "Don't take this the wrong way, I've just never encountered anyone like you before..." They secured the bandaging to I'nae's stomach, then moved to work on the hole in their cheek. "So I was just wondering what species you might be?" Was it rude to ask while assuming their own was obvious? "I am human, by the way." Was it more insulting if they said that and it was obvious? "Sorry." @🖤crow🖤

Their face scrunches in discomfort, a quiet rumble of pain leaving them as the soft, brittle shell and squishy insides get pressure put on them, no matter how gentle. But they are a trooper. After being rocketed into asphalt, all other pain pales in comparison. "Huuuuman?" Uncertain of this word. I'nae does a visual inspection of the differences between them. They tap a talon to their own chest, "Mmm. Seraph. Of Bright One with many children. Big Angel. Not small like baby. " And at the mention of it, they sigh deeply, developing a perturbed little frown. "Nothing now. I'nae switch team. Human." They grasp one of their twitching, rib legs and /pull/, until it pops free. Won't be needing this anymore, since their new friend definitely doesn't have any. I'nae has no concept of such irony as a patient that damages themself while you are attempting to fix them. @Al the Killer

Seraph... an angel? Quinn shot I'nae an incredulous look, mouth hanging open. No way that was true. Then again, there was no way this was a person, either. Something so utterly incomprehensible by human standards... angel was as good a term as any. Quinn shut their mouth and swallowed as they observed their guest. Just deciding to be human? Could someone do-? A short, involuntary scream escaped Quinn as I'nae literally tore one of their extra legs off. Quinn covered their mouth with one hand to stifle the noise, though their eyes remained wide with shock. Yet the ex-angel, new-human hardly seemed affected at all. Quinn removed their hand from their mouth to speak. "That, um... that might be a bit... drastic to do right from the start, huh?" they observed. "You know, humans come in all shapes and sizes. If you keep the extra legs covered, nobody will notice, so I don't think you have to lose them to be a human. Doesn't that hurt?" @🖤crow🖤

The angel gives Quinn a look of surprise when they scream, before discarding the wriggling appendage onto the floor to be picked up by the other three. Nothing going to waste here, you bet they're going to eat it. But first they clap a hand over the little hole left behind, while the shell allots resources to patch it. "Not hurt like when hit black ground. Bumpy black floor. " /Road/. "Ah! Just take color off. Good thought." The meaning of that becomes apparent as the extra appendages shimmer, and become invisible. Hard to notice if you don't know what to look for, as they still distort air ever so slightly. No wings, no creepy crawlies. Just a dirty, tar streaked body. I'nae extends their arms, looking proud. Ta-daaaa. Of course their nails are a bit long, but humans /pay/ for long names. "I'nae see home now. Please."

8:43 AM

@Al the Killer

Quinn's mouth continued to hang open as they watched the little display of auto-cannibalism. No amount of medical training could have desensitized them to this particular display of horror, they were sure, and their stomach churned slightly as they watched. Fortunately, its contents remained inside... for now. They closed their mouth and swallowed as the extra legs seemed to disappear. "That is... impressive," they admitted. "But I meant with clothes, since you can't just walk around naked." With limited regard for usual human standards of decency, all things considered, they let their gaze drift down to the blank area of I'nae's crotch. Public nudity laws aside, people were bound to notice the lack of sex characteristics sooner or later if they weren't clothed. For now, though, they were inside, the curtains drawn shut as far as Quinn could remember. This was... probably fine for now. "Right, I'll show you around." They stood up. "And you can pick something out from my closet to wear once we get there." They gestured toward the room around them. "This is the kitchen." They looked down at the table. "And the dining room. I make and eat food here, but you can probably find your preferred meal just about anywhere, so I don't think you'll have to worry about that." @🖤crow🖤

I'nae has the instinct to look anywhere Quinn shift their eyes too. There is something comical, the way they try to scrutinize their own ken doll blank, and then look at Quinn's to try and figure out what's missing. Impossible task with clothes on. "Don't get it." They say, before giving up and regarding the kitchen. "...Kit-cheen. Learned. Where Quinn is make food. Waste meal on floor. Is ok. I'nae catch crumbs." It doesn't make the most sense to the creature, when all matter is edible, to 'make' more. But they add this to their small but growing list of things that Humans do. This tour isn't going as fast as they would like to, beginning to gather energy. Energy that isn't being spent just standing around, so I'nae bounds out of the Kitchen. Hop hop hop, retracing their path back into the living room. "Door hole room. Yes?" @Al the Killer

Despite being the one giving the tour, Quinn followed I'nae out of the kitchen. The living room was... A bit sad, they had to admit. A single futon they'd slept on for a few months before finally managing to get hold of an actual bed, a small TV they never really used, and the L-desk where they spent most of their days studying. "Most people call it a living room," they explained. "You can sit around, watch TV - I don't have cable, but I do have Netflix - and the futon folds out so you can sleep on it." They walked over to one of the closed doors and opened it. "Bathroom is in here," they said, not sure if I'nae had any use for such a room in the first place. Well, aside from one thing. They pointed toward the shower. "You can clean yourself off in there. Do you know how to use a shower?" @🖤crow🖤

I'nae throws themself to bounce upon the futon with their knees. The lumpy, springy nature of futon pleases them, until they notice some of the still-sticky tar on their body being left behind, and bounce off. They can remember that this is the 'futon' that is 'available', and intuit that they probably shouldn't dirty their spot for the foreseeable future. Dust it off, before scuttling towards the next point. The bathroom is a mystery to them. They regard the shower with hands on their hip, pulling the curtain back and forth. "No?" They cannot fathom how this would clean anyone. "No water. No good. Shower broken." I'nae says, giving their profession assessment of the situation. The metal of the shower faucet catches their gaze, and they step into the tub to examine it with keen eyes. @Al the Killer

Quinn knew one thing for sure: that shower better not be broken. They took a step toward it. The controls were lower down along with the faucet, a classic setup with two simple metal knobs to turn, one marked C and the other marked H. Easy to use... for someone who had always lived among humans, anyway. They pointed up at the shower head. "That's where the water's going to come out," they explained. "But you have to turn it on first." Quinn's hand moved downward to indicate the knobs, unthinkingly leaning forward and over the edge of the tub to make their gestures more clear. They pointed first to the one on the left. "That one is for hot water, but it will take a few seconds to warm up." They indicated the right knob. "And that will bring in cold water. Use that when the water gets too warm for you. You can use my shampoo and soap for now; just give me a second to get a clean cloth for you."

5:04 AM

@🖤crow🖤

This human shit? This human shit is easy. A light bulb goes off in I'nae's head, and they instinctively grasp the hot water knob and cranks it to max. But when the water comes out cold first, they startle, scrabbling backwards, up the sloped back of the tub, until they slip and land on their bottom hard, sliding back down into the sprinkling stream. "Liar! Liar!" They hiss, comically, despite the fault lying with /them/ for only processing several of the words Quinn actually offered. They lay on their back, arms and legs bunched defensively, like a cockroach that has been over-turned and cannot flip over. The warmth comes gradually, and they lay sullenly in the stream, trying to find some way to lay down in the tub with their limbs not poised so awkwardly. Feet push on the bottom to scoot their face out of fire, and lay in the tub like they assume is the ergonomically sound way to do so. @Al the Killer

Quinn had leaned forward too far, which meant the cold water also came down right on their head and shoulders. With a shout of surprise, they stumbled back, hair and shirt soaked thanks to their brief, impromptu clothed half-shower. They shook their head, then walked back to grab a towel. "I didn't lie." They raised their voice slightly to be heard over the rush of running water. "I told you it'd be cold." They patted their red hair dry, but opted to deal with the discomfort of the wet t-shirt for now. For a moment, they simply watched while I'nae struggled with proper bath positioning. In truth, the basin itself was more or less child-sized, and it was more useful as a standing shower. "It's easier if you're on your feet," they suggested. "And be careful to keep the temperature balanced, or it might get too hot for comfort." They opened the linen cupboard, grabbing a folded-up washcloth from the top shelf. Walking over, they held it out to I'nae, more mindful of the water this time. "The soap is that blue bar by the wall. Just rub a good amount of it onto the cloth, then onto your body."

12:21 PM

@🖤crow🖤

Seeing Quinn get wet sparks a little giggle out of I'nae. A hoo hoo hoo. The creature struggles to stand up again, taking the cloth, to rub on their nose to feel the texture. They eye the bar of soap, picking it up. It looks very bitable. But they're already starting to get the idea that their new companion might object to that. Rub the soap on the cloth, rub the cloth on themself. This sounds easy in theory but when they rub it upon their face, they do not close their eyes or mouth, and come to regret it immediately. "Aaah! Burning!" They cry, shaking their head back and forth like a dog, wet hair sending a spray of black water. The water rinses it out quick enough, leaving I'nae pouting, with tightly shut eyes, as they start to scrub the rest of their body blindly. The tar is slowly but surely melting off. A slightly more normal angel is emerging. The shower heat is turned all the way up, but somehow it does not bother them. @Al the Killer

A small, petty part of Quinn couldn't help but think of that burning sensation I'nae felt as payback for laughing at them. They weren't so harsh as to say that out loud though, and instead draped the towel across their shoulders before turning to leave. They'd clean up the likely tar stains later, if their new roommate didn't eat the tar or whatever first. "You'll want to close your eyes and mouth when you wash your face, by the way," they said, a little too late and with a hint of amusement in their voice. "I'm going to change into a dry shirt, but yell if you need anything. You just turn the knob back the way it was before when you're ready to turn the water off." Forgetting to mention the towels, they walked out of the bathroom to give a bit of privacy to the ex-angel who didn't really seem to care about privay anyway. @🖤crow🖤

Hit enter too soon. Sad.

9:15 AM

Sounds easy enough. Wipe off all the sticky blood from their body. Turn the water off. No nuance necessary. "Okayyyyy", they say, sing-song, and attempting an awkward little pivot. A pass at a spin in the sprinkling water. It's like rain, but without the freedom of movement. They do give Quinn a minute. Mostly because it is harder to scrub off their sticky venous fluid, once it's dried on. They were given no instruction for their hair, so the rats and snarls within it become steamed, and not any looser. Nor do they think to try and pick through it with their fingers. 10 minutes at max, before the shower audibly turns off, and they are released from their soap and water prison. There is the sounds of fast feet pattering. Into the kitchen, the living room. Looking all over for their new friend, and leaving drips on the way. The faster they run, the more dry they feel. This must be the optimal way to dry after a bath. "Quinn? Quiiiiiiinnn." Singing in order to echolocate new friend.

9:15 AM

@Al the Killer

Quinn walked into their bedroom and peeled off the shirt that had experienced the impromptu shower. Really, that part was their own fault, so no complaints there. They threw on a simple black v-neck in its place, then sat at the desk again. As long as the water was running, they'd have time to get right back to what they had been doing. Nearly ten whole minutes of studying, before their peace and quiet got interrupted yet again. They had, at first, managed to tune out the pattering of wet feet on the floor. It would probably be cleaned once I'nae got thirsty or something. Then the former-angel began to actually sing their name. Considerably harder to ignore. Quinn sighed and closed the textbook. It seemed tonight would not be a productive one. They stood up and opened the door. "In here," they said flatly, then looked down at the water on the floor. Maybe it did call for a mop, after all. "I can show you where the towels are." They looked at I'nae's mess of hair. "And the shampoo, but it might be late for that. Come back in here." They closed the door, then led the way back to the bathroom, where they grabbed a towel from the cabinet and held it out for I'nae. @🖤crow🖤

They patter back into the bathroom, to regard the new tool Quinn shows them. Inuition takes over and they walk into the fabric, twisting, until it's cloaked around them. "Cape," they say, proud of themself for figuring it out. However, 'cape' only really dries their shoulders and keeps their mass of hair from dripping. "Is Quinn mad?" A second thought, the corners of I'nae's mouth beginning to downturn. They can tell their tone isn't amused, but cannot tell for what reason. They look down and back at the water on the floor. "Can fix it? Messy?"

4:25 AM

@Al the Killer

It was... wrong, but a start. Quinn smiled a bit despite themself. The entire situation was somewhere between frustrating and entertaining, and just this once, they'd acknowledge that it leaned more toward the 'entertaining' side of that space. "Not quite. You should also pat your hair and the rest of your body with it too, so you can get dry. I'll show you how to wash your hair, too." When asked if they were mad, they took a deep breath, reminding themself to be patient. After all, I'nae didn't seem so completely clueless about everything. They shook their head, and meant it. "I wouldn't say mad. I'm just not used to having you around yet. We can clean up the water later." They walked back to the shower and picked up the bottle of shampoo. "Normally, you'd use this in the shower, but we can use the sink too. Wait there for a moment." They ran the water until it came out decently warm, not scorching hot. "Is this a good temperature, or do you want more hot water?" @🖤crow🖤