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After Balthazar had returned, Clerise had driven into training. All her time was evenly divided between the field, the gym, and Clarice's room. She had taken a day of leave to replenish her wardrobe, hitting thrift stores in downtown LA, eagerly taking the chance to let her style and flair shine through.

Her coat was fantastic. It had a hood, wide and heavy, but the rest of the coat she had gotten modified to be lighter. There were no sleeves, leaving her room to swing the sickles without fear of catching on the fabric.

Life was good, but a little lonely. It felt like she hadn't seen anyone at all recently, given to how content she was to spend long stretches in their (No, it was Clarice's room, not hers or theirs, remember that--) room, lounging around and talking.

Anything to fill the silence. Clerise was growing more comfortable with talking to him in her head, though, which was a little quieter for Balthazar. He explained that it definitely made her less loud, not having to hear her in her head and in the real world.

So, after catching up, Clerise decided it was time to play catch up.

She knocked on Sasha's door, hoping she hadn't relocated. "Hey, whirly girl! You in there?"

Clerise noted the way Sasha look tired, but could not tell if it was in a way that was harrowed or if it was simply exhaustion. She looked pink from what was, presumably, a shower. "So you are," she said, a smile tugging her own lips upwards.

Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around Sasha's shoulders, giving her a firm hug. Oblivious to any of the worrisome events that had just transpired, Clerise gave her friend a private, overly content smile.

"I forgot to tell you," she murmured, and pulled Balthazar from around her neck. After his return, Clerise refused to take him off. Even in the shower.

{[ Something that I do not appreciate, ]} the weapon replied, sour, but Clerise just let out the smallest of snickers.

In a flash of light, he was summoned, his circular form replaced by dual sickles, the handles heavy and carved with runes, the blades looking identical in sharpness and texture as her hoop had been.

"Guess who's back~" she sang, "Back again~!"

Clerise let out a low whistle. "We have some fine looking bitches," she said gravely, but her eyes were oddly alight. Balthazar was a foreign but comfortable weight in her hand, his edges deadly and sharp. She'd likely forsake the gauntlet for a pair of fingerless gloves, hard leather instead of pinching metal.

Plus, she'd want to get some straps. Leather, again, to wrap around her waist-- much like her old runic daggers had.

{[ Ah, but I am a sight larger than they are, am I not? ]}

That you are. If you get much bigger I'll have to feed you fear from a trough.

She reached out to smooth back some of Sasha's shorter hair with a grin, perhaps unnecessarily so. "I think our hairs are switching lives, freaky Friday style. I've been growing mine out!" There was a braid along the underside of her hair on the right side, and the rest of it was down and loose. Wild, even.

"Huh. Rep's room?" Clerise's eyes lingered on Sasha's pale fingers, tracing her hair. "Sure. Didn't know you interacted much with the gingy. Don't think I've ever been to his room, actually."

Clerise kept their fingers interlaced, the contact unexpected but not unwanted. She held them carefully, as though she had squished a few too many hands in her day with too-tight squeezing.

(Which she had.)

"I feel fantastic," she replied, cheeky. "Things were pretty grim. But uh, even though I got sent to Antarctica because Caelius a doooouccheelordd-- things worked out okay."

She had no faith that things would always be okay, or any expectations for how long such a state would last, but Clerise had always been a live in the moment kind of girl, anyway. Sasha seemed to be doing well, too, except.

Well, something wasn't right. She couldn't put her finger on it, and it was driving her insane. "I hear you. Change is good, usually."

It was the distinct lack of a smile when she got thoughtful. "Well," Clerise hummed, gears turning, desummoning Balthazar and placing him back around her neck, sliding his durable silver chain along her skin.

"I'm game!"

"Caelius," she said, with a sour expression, "is a c**t." She tugged her scarf down, revealing a thin scar along her neck that melted in with the scars left by swirling feathers.

At the question about the Antarctic, Clerise just gave Sasha a nod. "You know the thing that kind of ate the doc? Turns out, it does not like harpoons. Dragged all of us under--and made a ********' WHIRLPOOL. You know, I dunno how we didn't drown." She laughed, incredulous. Maybe her luck would run out, some day, but she'd had her fair share of lucky breaks.

Clerise let Sasha's steps set the pace, in no rush at all. She had all the time in the world, these days. They weren't even numbered or anything. Fancy that.

"Well, okay. So I ALMOST did, but." She tapped the watch around her neck. Her expression was beatific for someone that had only just barely escaped the claws of death. "He woke up at a good time."

The quiver in Sasha's grip did not go unnoticed; Clerise smoothed her thumb over the back of the other woman's hand, gripping her hand with a quick squeeze.

Whatever they were about to do in Rep's room, it meant something.

"Thanks!" She pulled the hood up with her free hand, giving Sasha a saucy look, eyebrow raised. "I feel so...mysterious and dashing," she murmured, voice intentionally made gravely-- and tried to look as serious as possible.

It only lasted a few moments before a dignified giggle-snort escaped.

"I like yours, too. You've got a...new look going on." She hmmmmed. "I don't actually know if it is fitting right now, but I like it. I think it could be fitting. If that makes sense? Like one of those crab dudes who gets the new, cool shell even when it doesn't fit, so he has room to grow."

Clerise still thought of Caelius when she saw the scar. Of her eyes set ablaze, tied up and cover in people-parts. Having just seen Eva nearly go the same way. Of screaming at him, in the dark, surrounded by musty air and rot. The careful slice to her neck, thin enough to leave a line from one side of her neck to the next and little else, like the tiniest of smiles.

Clarice had said that a lot of people had similar things from Caelius-- but that didn't make it any less unnerving to think about how close she'd been to losing her head.

So she didn't think about it. Thoughts pushed away, Clerise's own grim smile slipped to something easier.

"Yeah, but you have to use the mysterious powers for good." Clerise waved a hand. "Not use them to seduce hapless trainees, with the voice and the smirk and the everything." She pointed a finger at Sasha. "I know his ways, him and a lotta guys."

A sigh. "Creepy or not, he's totally a fox. A silver fox."

Clerise gave a long look to Sasha. "Well. You're outta the box. Where to from there, now that you've broken the wall down?" Her lips turned upwards in a lopsided smile. "Keep pushing."

"Bangable older dude," Clerise replied with a firm nod. "Would do over and over again status." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Sasha, ready to make another inappropriate comme-

"Sweet <********>. That is nasty." Clerise gagged, yanking her own scarf up in an attempt to stymie the horrible smell of mildwed everything.

"There's sure some ********' mold in here," she muttered, stepping into the room. "But I think it's good." Trailing behind Sasha, red eyes flicked around the room.

Clearly, no one was here, let alone Rep. What could she possibly want?

"I mean, like. You seem thoughtful about it. Methodical is your style." She waved a hand, no longer clad in gauntlets (though she still had them, tucked into one of Clarice's drawers), but fingerless leather gloves.

"I don't like to think about my choices. I used to try and think real hard, but then my world kept blowing up in my face. So I just stopped." A feral grin behind the scarf. "Maybe you should give it a try, if you ever get stuck. Stop thinking so hard, I mean."

"Dude. Dude." Clerise grinned. "You haven't noticed?" She nudged her shoulder against Sasha's. "The next time you see him-- check him out. Seriously check him out. Besides, love doesn't mean you can't look."

Clerise peered at the room, kicking at a piece of mildewed...something on the ground. "I understand that. It was just me and my dad for ages. I tried to do right by him-- but uh. I dunno, I couldn't take the pressure of being perfect, I guess. So... I just straight up peaced out instead of trying."

She offered Sasha smile from behind the scarf, the corner of her eyes crinkling. "You don't have to know. That's the point--"

Clerise stared at the clothes. "...We came here to steal Rep's clothes? ...Are you like, going to go redhead? And assume his identity? I don't really know if THAT KIND of change is what you should really be going for, here."

She truly looked baffled, head tilted much like a dog's.