Welcome to Gaia! ::

"Uh huh." Misha sipped her drink again, absently twisting to drop her mask on the table behind them with her free hand. "I mentioned a spa day to Beth after the Alps mess but then Circe struck before we could find a cute place to go. Just another thing to hold against the witch," she sighed, a hint of long-suffering in her voice.

As for the other question... While she was not at all ashamed of her little advice column, time and interaction with her fellow Chosen had shown the weight of it in sharp contrast with their own careers. It was almost humbling. It was also completely fascinating.

Misha offered a gentle sort of smile. "Yep, I write a relationship advice column for a little local Philly paper. A Penny Saver type of thing. I don't have the fancy credentials for the bigger papers," she explained mildly, "but I keep it simple and to common sense. You'd be surprised what a theater major can teach you about human nature." She laughed. "And dating a lot."

"You're too sweet. Thank you." Misha's smile lit her face until even the dimness of the gym seemed banished. "But I sometimes wonder if I should be going back to school if I'm going to be offering advice. Common sense and experience only takes you so far, you know. But you? What do you do, Sylvia?" A mixed tone of amusement and honest belief shaded the brunette's words as she added, "Are you in the arts? Have you done any modeling?"

There was no hint of shadow to the question. Misha had seen Sylvia out in the bayou as well as in her pretty fairy dress; she judged the other woman easily pretty enough to earn a paycheck in exchange for photos.

Well, that pretty much cast shade on a Penny Saver advice column, Misha thought wryly but she grinned and it was an honest, delighted reaction to Sylvia's answer. "That's amazing! I can only imagine how intense that can get but I'm sure it is totally worth it, too."

She shook her head a bit, reaching up to push a piece of her dark hair back behind her ear. "No wonder you value your Friday Night Relaxation Ritual." Somehow Misha managed to make the capitals clear in her tone without sounding too precious about it. Her smile mellowed into something gentle and impressed. "You probably really need it some weeks."

Misha offered a charming, lopsided grin in response to Sylvia's firm declaration. "Pretty much," she agreed. "I spent at least an hour on self-care after we got back from the Alps. I needed to feel like myself again and that meant getting rid of the bird s**t and... Well, everything else."

She studied Sylvia's face and a thoughtful expression came over her own. Misha wondered suddenly where in the dorms the other woman was staying; she certainly had not run into her often enough to put their claimed rooms close by each other. The dorm was, over all, much too big for how few people were in it. Misha had decided that shortly after their first mission and the more recent one simply reinforced it.

"I hope you don't mind me asking," she said suddenly, "but where in the dorm are you? I feel like my floor is a ghost floor. It's too quiet. Drives me a little stir crazy."

"First floor." Misha laughed, offering a smile that, on anyone else, would be viewed as sheepish. On her, though, it read pure impish mischief. "Mostly because a, I didn't think of the view as an option. I was just too floored that I was here at all. I mean, chosen by a goddess? It is just about on par for a girl as discovering you are the long lost princess of a tiny, magical kingdom somewhere."

She leaned back against the table and raised a hand in a vague gesture. "Really, though, I would say the bigger reason is b. As in, I did not want to cart my bags up flights of stairs and I couldn't find anyone to help me at the time." She made a stair climbing gesture with her fingers in absent pantomime and then shook her hand out as if to wipe it away. "So I pretty much just dumped it all in the first room I came to."

Misha paused, biting lightly at her lower lip. She looked sideways at Sylvia and there was a sort of calculating hope in her expression. "Ever thought of seeing if you could find a roommate for the other half of a suite?" she asked casually.

"I didn't at first," Misha admitted honestly. "Probably because I was still getting used to the life and the place. It was all so very new, you know? It was also kind of neat having a place entirely to myself for a change. I've had roommates forever. Well..." She laughed and offered another one of her single-shouldered Gallic shrugs. "At least since I went to college and then moved out of my parents' home."

She twisted, rearranging her body absently to present an open posture, showing interest and honesty in every line of her black-clad frame. Why hide the truth, she always said; Misha was nothing if not honest when she had an idea that appealed. "Then I realized that it's kind of really lonely. The whole building is lonely, practically. There aren't many of us yet and I'm pretty sure Max would never let me move into the Hera dorm to stay with Beth."

Misha shrugged again. She had honestly wondered about the idea; she liked Beth so much, adored the Hera Chosen to bits, and figured she would be a fun roommate. She still smiled, though. "Don't worry. I'm not saying you and I should get a suite together ASAP buuuut... How would you feel if we at least lived on the same floor? Quiet is important but the amount of it where I am is starting to make me a little buggy. If that makes sense?"

Misha studied Sylvia's face carefully. Despite the looseness in her limbs and the fact that her cup never seemed fully empty, she still had all of her wits about her. She was not drunk, only pleasantly tipsy. Perhaps her boundaries were blurred but she still figured her judgement was sound. Sylvia seemed a very sweet woman and it appeared that they matched on a lot of important points. Namely, the importance of bathing rituals and consideration of personal space. The blonde also had positive points in her column as far as Misha was concerned because Beth seemed to like her. Plus she had caught Brian interacting with her during the bayou fiasco in an easy, happy sort of way.

She still hesitated to make the decision, though. Sylvia seemed so content to live on her own.

On the other hand, Misha wasn't. The quiet got to her if she was alone too much. The suites were big enough, though, with the individual bedrooms separated by a rather large bathroom.

Finally, she smiled and her expression shone with gentle sweetness and a strange sort of gratitude. "If you really wouldn't mind, I would love to move in and give it a go," she announced. "Just promise me this. If you get sick of me or it doesn't work out, tell me right away." Her smile grew more. "Or, failing that, if I do things that bother you, tell me so I can self-correct. Believe it or not, I'm pretty good at taking constructive criticism."

Delighted at the gesture that spoke of a charming throw-back to childhood and summer camp, Misha held out her hand and hooked her pinkie against Sylvia's. Then she went through with the accepted process of shaking their hands, crossing her eyes, and grinning. "Pinkie promise to all of your demands, oh Fairy Queen," she giggled. "Including the no heavy lifting clause."

She turned a bit and let her gaze drift around the room, minus any kind of subtlety, settling first on Brian and then, in quick succession, Edward and Mal and Rob. The smile she shared with Sylvia hovered between amused and smug. "I think I can even promise neither of us would have to lift anything heavy. I feel safe in saying I can scare up a few volunteers to help."