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[vecna]

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[vecna]

You mean flamingoes?

[Are they flamingoes.]

[velluminous]

[ they're flamingos. ]

Yes. Neon birds.

[ she will lean hard into this if it means they aren't talking about the oni. ]

[vecna]

[Do you think he’s forgotten about the oni? You will just make yourself look silly, Ms Vaux.]

Okay.

[Okay?]

Pick what you want. [He doesn’t care!] Either way, I haven’t missed that you’re ignoring my advice.

[velluminous]

[ the very bold implication that she doesn't make herself a fool literally every conversation she has ]

Henry, please.

[vecna]

Sprezzatura.

[Mirroring her tone with a quirking brow and head tilt.]

I’m only trying to help you.

[velluminous]

And what if she does something terrible I cannot take back?

[vecna]

Then that’s not on you. Haven’t you told your friends here about her? Do you think they’d blame you for something you never wished on them?

[velluminous]

[ laughs weakly while looking in Sholmes' direction.

she tenses her jaw, not quite meeting his eye. what a stupid conversation to be having dressed like this. ]

Pah. Blame. I am used to blame.

[vecna]

[Well. If someone dried off their clothes, maybe—]

I find it hard to believe the inmates here aren’t willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.

Just think about it, Sprezzatura.

[velluminous]

[ Prestidigitation isn't intended for this purpose! do you know how much manipulation this is taking!!! ]

I think about it every day, Mister Creel. [ she holds out a hand ] Here. Give me your clothes.

[vecna]

[Do you really want to leave this place dressed like this!!!

But Henry complies, moving to gather up his wet clothes and draw close enough to hand them to her, even if he has to reach over a standee or two.]

What for?

[velluminous]

[ consider that only one of them is dressed at all right now. taking his stupid sopping shirt and beginning to Prestidigitate it dry. or at least less wet. ]

This for.

[vecna]

[...Oh.]

You couldn't have done that before I changed into this?

[An addendum:]

That's a joke, by the way.

[velluminous]

[ components verbal, so she answers in slow murmurs between castings ] I was not watching you dress and undress, Mister Creel.

[vecna]

You didn’t think I would just stand around in wet clothes after I suggested we needed a change of them, did you?

[velluminous]

I thought you seemed little bit above polka-dot bottoms. [ a beat ] Ah, no. Sea shells. Cute.

[vecna]

[He scoffs.]

The other options were sandcastles and dolphins. I wasn’t exactly spoiled for choice.

[velluminous]

[ quietly, while she works, ] Not one of those who embraces whimsy as part of his career, then?

[vecna]

My uniform was all white.

[If they are referring to his previous """career""".]

No bright prints or loud colors for me, or anyone else.

[velluminous]

Hm. How terrifically boring. [ she has most of a sleeve dry now ] Clothing is self-expression.

[vecna]

[There wasn’t a lot of self-expression allotted to him — like, ever.]

And what does “pink seashells” express?

[velluminous]

Lack of better choice, sounds like.

[ hands him his shirt. it's still kind of damp. ]

[vecna]

[Well, it’s better than nothing. He thumbs it to test its dampness, seems to consider it Fine, and begins to slip it on. Now he can wear a button-down shirt and swim trunks.]

Believe it or not, I’ve never really had an eye for fashion.

[BELIEVE IT OR NOT, he says, dressed like his.]

[velluminous]

[ you've activated her. she watches him dress, or at. least she's looking at him while he pulls the shirt on, but there's a sense she's sort of elsewhere in her head. ]

You would suit waistcoat.

[vecna]

[Buttoning up, one at a time—]

A waistcoat? I’ve never had the pleasure.

[He really hasn’t.]

What color? And don't say turquoise.