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A long day meant it was time to sit back and unwind. This required the perfect selection of music. Usually she was a tried and true Bowie fan, or Queen, but today she had gone with something a little more modern. She wasn't opposed to newer releases, there were some very talented individuals in the music industries these days, she just had a preference, is all. Today though, today she was listening to Of Monsters and Men. Little Talks, to be precise. Considering she'd left her door open, it might have been playing a little loud, but so far none of Gretchen's neighbors had complained. For all she knew they appreciated the break from the eerie silence that seemed to linger in the basement.

Humming along, the Death trainee sank down on the edge of her bed to roll her pant leg up. The prosthetic beneath was actually the most comfortable one she'd ever owed, but that didn't mean she liked to wear it twenty four-seven. Occasionally she needed a break, needed just sit and be, and feel the air on her skin.

(You have not finisssshed training.)

I'm taking a break. I'll go back out after dinner.

(Lax, lazy sssscareling.)

A defensive, almost defiant huff followed, but Gretchen lacked much of a backbone where her partner was concerned.

Frowning, she went back to her humming as she slipped the prosthetic off the bottom of her leg and let it down carefully on the floor beside her bed. Island life was pretty rough on it. There were dents and nicks in the metal and plastic of the base, and the bolts securing the post had very recently been replaced. It made her wonder just how long the thing would last, and when it did fail, just how she was going to get a new one.

She didn't notice him standing there t first, her attention was down on her leg, her hands sliding part way down her calf to where it ended, then back up and over her knee , pausing briefly at the red and blue of the tattooed band that circled low on her thigh. Skin care was important no matter who you were, but for her in particular, not just because of the abuse she but the leg through on a daily bases, but her fair skin. She was reaching for the lotion bottle again when he spoke up, startling her, but the shock was only there fora second before pretty features melted into a delighted smile.

"You do? I'm glad. I wasn't sure if people appreciated it or not, but since no one had complained yet, I figured why not, you know?" Her voice was a soft, easy drawl that suggested she'd grown up somewhere down south, but nto quite Georgia south.

Honey eyes took in the worn jeans and the stained shirt, sliding up and up to the bun, and then resting on his face. "I like your hair." One slim hand left her leg, coming up to point. "And your beard." Another flash of a grin, and perhaps the soft sound of giggle barely suppressed.

"You're not interrupting anything." The lotion was finally grabbed now, and she squeezed a small pearl onto her palm before dropping it on the bed again. "Can come in if ya' want. Don't have a lot of places to sit yet, but there's a desk, or," she patted the bed beside her with her other hand before rubbing her palms together and drawing her other leg up, repeating the process all over again. "I'm Gretchen."

She just smiled all the brighter for the appreciation. If there were anyone in the basements that found the music annoying, this certainly wasn't helping. If anything, it'd make her play it louder. Ah well.

As he repeated her name she'd give a nod and a soft 'mmhmm' that'd barely make it above the volume of the music, eyes on him as he came in and took a seat beside her. If his accent was anything to go by he probably wasn't from the states, but beyond that she couldn't have guessed. Not Spanish, not French, not Asian, but that left a lot of the world as a possibility.

She considered it as his attention dipped to her leg, but his observation pulled her out of her musing and into the present. "Oh. Yes I am." Not the first time someone had mentioned the leg, certainly not the last. Gretchen never minded anymore. It was just how she was. Noting the curious expression and the attempt to eye the scar at the nub she'd stretch the leg out in his direction so he could see better.

"A car accident when I was little." She hooked her hands beneath her knee, leaning back as a counter balance.

He could have touched, she likely wouldn't have minded. The skin at the end of her leg was smooth, shiny, and thick, but she couldn't actually feel much through it. At the center, a dark line stretched from left to right like a seam. As far as amputees went, it was fairly tidy, neat. The doctors had done a great job on it.

She followed his gesture down, then gave a nod as she smiled. "Prosthetic," she offered helpfully. "And yes, I'm very used to it now. If I wear long pants no one would ever know." Especially with the fairings in place to give the structure of an artificial calf. "Here I think an athletic curve would be handy. They're the ones that aren't shaped to look natural." Gretchen let her leg go and sat up a little straighter, hands up to draw in the air between them as she talked. "It's got the post, but mid way down it connects to this long curve. You usually see folks runnin' with them." She wasn't sure how she'd get one, seeing as how she no longer had medical records or easy access to her doctors.

Maybe she could ask someone in Life if they could make one.

"My shield extends as far as my leg does, so the prosthetic isn't as protected. It's busted once, but a sweet thing fixed it up for me. " She chuckled. "My partner thinks I'm weak. Like she got saddled with a something broken." Another laugh, this one a little self deprecating.

(You are weak.)

The laughed trailed off, but she held onto her smile. "So what's your name? Are you new?"

As Isaac sank back to rest on his elbows Gretchen folded her legs in front of her, as best as she could, and rested her hands in her lap. He seemed like a very grounded individual, comfortable wherever he happened to be and down to earth. With a calm demeanor and a warm smile. It was contagious, she couldn't help but smile back at him.

His use of the word 'fetch' had her grinning though. "It is." Gretch didn't think of it as a handicap anymore. It didn't slow her down much, didn't keep her from doing things she wanted to do. She wasn't crippled, she was unique.

"Really? I thought all the beds were standard issue." There was nothing to base that on, it was just an assumption. She did look up at the solid stretch of wall beside them, giving her own wistful little sigh. "That doesn't sound too bad, really," she mused, before clarifying. "Sleeping outside, I mean. The sky here is gorgeous at night, have you seen it?" More stars then she'd ever seen in her life. The first time she'd looked up she'd very nearly walked into a wall, she'd been staring so long.

She gave a thoughtful little hum before looking down again, shifting a hand so she could push on the mattress beside her. "It doesn't get too cold?"

"Could be. Maybe I'm lucky. I haven' had much experience with other beds on Deus, so I'll have to take your word on mine bein more comfortable." Her own laugh was a softer thing as it echoed his.

"That explains the accent." She'd been wondering. It hadn't sounded like anything she'd ever encountered before, though since she'd not done much traveling outside her own country that wasn't saying much. "I've never been well suited for the cold, but I grew up in the south. Doesn' get too cold there." Hell, a few inches of snow meant the entire state shut down. It would have been funny if it weren't such a huge bother.

He'd turned, cheek resting on his hand, and Gretchen slid back on her bed until her shoulder could lean against the wall. "If you're usually asleep when the stars are out you must be a morning person." Her tone was teasing.

"I'm from Wichita, Kansas." It explained her own soft southern drawl.

"Mm, yes. Bad luck indeed. It's very pretty up there, you know." Brows twitched, honey eyes flicking up to the ceiling as if she could see the the dots of light through the two floors above them.

When she brought head back down to look at him again she was grinning cheekily. "I've never left it. Hell, I've never traveled all that far even within the U.S.". Family trips to Virginia, Ohio, Florida. "There's a lot to see."

The music changed as the album ended. Gretchen leaned around him to grab the iPod off the bedside table so she could turn the volume down as Elton John started singing over the speaker.

"Is Norway as pretty as it looks on TV?" Because if it was, she wanted to see it for herself. During the summer months, preferably.

"I guess that mans I have a trip to Norway to plan." Music situation handled, Gretchen set the iPod on the bed beside her, returning hands to her lap as she turned to rest her back against the wall. After a moment she uncurled her legs to stretch them out in front of her. "Maybe for one of those festivals." her head tipped thoughtfully, rolling against the wall. "The Viking one, maybe. That sounds like lots of fun."

Her attention shifted as the mattress did with the idle kicking. "I'll bet the snow is lovely," she mused, smiling. "I don't much care for the cold, but I'll bet it's really something to see when everything's covered in snow." They didn't get very much in Wichita. A few inches here or there, but it wasn't very impressive.

She supposed now she had the chance to actually do it--see the world.

Her head turned, attention drifting from his legs and back to his face. "So I know you like music." And seemed to have good taste. "What else do you like?"