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[an_evening_star]

It's unusual, really, to see the star much of anywhere on her own.

But she's there all the same - curled up in one of the armchairs near the fire with her legs over the armrest and a long white jacket slung over her lap. There's a neat slice on the side of one coatsleeve and a larger hole in the shoulder - and the fine, white string she's attempting to wrangle has stubbornly wound its way down her arm and doesn't seem particularly inclined to cooperate with any amount of frustrated glaring.

She's terrible at this. (Which, truthfully, is most of the motivation for not attempting it upstairs - where certain people could wake up and see.)

She's terrible at it, but that doesn't seem to make her particularly inclined to give up. She continues on, frowning stubbornly, curses soft and mumbled against bleeding fingers and messily tended material.

Interruption would be a blessing. Unless you happen to be a very angry sewing needle offended by the sort of language your tiny, prickly child might be picking up, mind you.

Comments

[an_evening_star]

"Oh, gods yes," she laughs, spearing a piece of her own. "I would make an awful rock."

Rocks are dreadfully boring, anyhow.

The fork pops into her mouth and she chews thoughtfully.

[bright_daughter]

"Definitely could not talk back then," Star said with just the smallest bit of a smirk, before she put the cake in her mouth.

Cake?

Cake....

It was chewy. And crumbly. And it definitely had a something that defied words, but caused a smile.

And made her reach out her fork for more.

[an_evening_star]

Cake is rather nice, actually.

Sweet. And pleasant. And certainly requiring a second taste - possibly a third as well.

The slight smirk is returned, quite wider and entirely unabashed, "And where's the fun in that?"

[bright_daughter]

"None at all," Star giggled, making her way through another bite, taking time to pick off the icing and eat it alone, then follow it with the cake.

It was becoming a play toy.

[an_evening_star]

Well, what's the point of food if not to play with it?

"And it would be dreadful to leave us bored," she gestures vaguely with the fork for emphasis.

[bright_daughter]

Star will greatly apply said wisdom to all food now. To be picked apart, and tried individually, and played with as it is deemed.

"Unable to talk or move would be terrible," Star said, licking icing off the tip of a finger. Then she stopped, adding. "Or sing. And no one would notice. That would be--"

She paused, removing the last of the icing.

"I think I know why cake shops hardly close now."

[an_evening_star]

That gets another laugh, muffled around a bite of cake, the momentarily somber expression fading and her free hand fluttering over her mouth for the sake of propriety.

"I can certainly see reason for their success," she grins. "It's sweet and smooth and yes."

Or maybe it's just a case of stars being the sort of things that have a tendency toward terrible sweet-teeth.

[bright_daughter]

"Yes," Star said, nodding in agreement after her word. "It's an interesting texture. I may have to have this whenever people mention food now."

As that did come into happening. At least here, with their weird often food eating.

Humans.

[an_evening_star]

"It's a good choice, I am thinking."

Now they know it. It's good to have things that you know already.

And, really, she's seen some of the things that her mortal eats - and, quite frankly, they're strange.

[bright_daughter]

"Yes." Star said, with another bright grin. "Thank you for this."

[an_evening_star]

"You are most welcome."

The smile goes a little shy and the fork spins over her fingers.

"There is something to be said for favorable company."

[bright_daughter]

Star looked from the girl to the room and back, a certain amount of wonder even prevalent through the serenity.

"A good start to all things considered."

[an_evening_star]

"You will like it here," she says. "Everyone is different enough that there seems to be a place for everyone to fit."

Even the strange ones.

Especially the strange ones.

[bright_daughter]

"Hope, hope. All their worlds coming together in one place, very little is same-" The vaguest echo of sane "-but it makes it. Swallows in a hurricane who've found a new island and race."

Then she went in for another bite of cake.

This 'sweet' thing was gaining points by the minutes.

[an_evening_star]

Sanity, like many other things, is vastly overrated.

"It broadens horizons, I think."

Sometimes you need to see things you never thought were possible in order to understand much of anything at all.

[bright_daughter]

"It will to mine, as it goes to you," she added the second part with a grin. She'd seen quite a good deal of that, mind.