2021-11-20 - Perdita's Penthouse Gets a Guest

The morning after Garrett's arrival brings cold and rain outside, the sound soft on the roof of the penthouse apartment. No sunshine and bird song to herald in his return, unfortunately. But at least there's soon the smell of breakfast food filling the living room, as Perdita, wearing a black bodycon dress, a red faux fur coat and with her hair up in a high ponytail, slips back into the penthouse via its front door, carrying a plastic bag filled with to-go food in one hand, and another with what looks to be clothing from a thrift shop... and a good bit of it, at that.

She moves quietly, but it's hard to keep plastic from rustling and keys from jingling softly as she returns, taking a moment to look about for her new houseguest.

As soon as the keys were being put in the door Garrett was awake and sitting up, eyes wide, looking around in a brief panic before remembering where he was and taking a deep breath, shaking his head as he remembers where he is. A few moments later, he's incredibly easy for his hostess to locate; he's moving towards her, reaching out to help carry bags.

"Morning," he greets, giving Perdita a nod and a small smile as he relieves her of whatever she's willing to part with. "Anything else you need to bring up?" he asks, glancing towards the door, the offer to go fetch clear in voice and body language.

"No, this is it for now, thanks. I thought you could use a hot meal that isn't just... carbs." She smiles at the man, "I didn't know if you have any dietary restrictions, but I tried to get a variety of things." the smell of bacon and other meats are soon dominating the space, and the to-go bag definitely has enough food for a good meal or two for them both.

"I guessed at shoe size, but these should fit..." Perdita closes the door, smiling as she locks it, just in case. You never know in this town. "Sorry you had to take the couch, I haven't really settled in yet. I'm having furniture delivered later today." she laughs, a little embarrassed at the sheer emptiness of the apartment. Even her bedroom, the door of which is open right now, has almost nothing in it.

The smell of bacon reaches Garrett's nose and he swallows heavily, shaking his head. "No, no restrictions," he assures, then laughs quietly. "You don't have anything to apologize for. That couch is the softest thing I've slept on in.... a while," he says, some of his smile fading before he clears his throat, shaking his head as if to banish memories.

"If I can get a hold of my old landlord he hopefully has all my stuff in a storage unit or two somewhere or other and I won't have to rely on the kindness of strangers for things like clothes for very long," he informs his hostess, taking the offered clothes. "...vanishing for a year and a half probably won't be great for the ol' rental history, though," muses, half to himself, sighing.

"... Hospitality's big for my family... Did you sleep okay?" she genuinely seems worried, as she heads into the kitchen to gather plates, forks and spoons, coming out with two little TV trays that look like they've been in use since at least the 50s.

"Sit, sort out what you want and eat." Dita sets up both trays in front of the couch, grinning at Garrett. There's coffee, in to-go cups, bacon, toast, sausage, steaks, hash browns, eggs, huge stacks of pancakes, fresh fruit and donuts. All the calories, all the carbs. "I'll get some groceries delivered later, get the kitchen stocked up so that there's actual food here for you until you get things sorted, but... I was thinking you don't have to rush if you don't want to. This place is huge." she gestures about the emptiness with a soft smile. "So... take a breather, get yourself sorted at your own pace. You've been through something crazy."

"...not really, but it wasn't the couch," Garrett answers with a small shrug and a definitely-forced smile as he does his best to make himself useful, taking and setting up the TV trays before showing some restraint in his food choices. A pancake, some eggs, some fruit. Pacing himself.

He listens as Perdita speaks, doing that more than actually eating. "I'm not a particularly impressive cook, but I can at typically produce passably edible food," he offers up, then raises an eyebrow at the offer. "You weren't kidding about the hospitality," he says, seeming more than a little surprised. "...I'll find out how bloody ruined I am before I know for sure how long I'll be imposing on you, but for now I don't think I have much choice but to take you up on your offer," he says softly, offering a small, grateful return smile.

"You don't..." Perdita pauses, turning slightly toward Garrett. "You don't need to pretend to be okay. Not for me, not for anybody. You can if it helps you, but you don't need to for my sake."

Perdita takes one of the steaks and some eggs, as well as a few pieces of the fruit, mostly going for strawberries.

"Passably edible food is good. I've mostly been eating take out since I got here." she gestures to the take out with a smile, before popping a strawberry into her mouth. "Don't think of it as an imposition, because it's really not. I've lived a good life, made some smart financial decisions, and now I've got space to help other people." Most of those deicisions involved grifting rich men, but... Garrett doesn't need to know that, just yet.

"...I'm not," Garrett says after a bit of a pause. Okay? Pretending? He doesn't really specify. "I'm sure I'll have another breakdown or twelve before I'm back to my old self. For what that's worth." He sighs, staring at nothing in particular for a long few moments before snapping back to reality and forcing himself to take a bite of bacon.

"I don't know my old landlord's phone number off hand, but I do remember the address I sent the rent checks to. I don't suppose I could impose on you for a ride across town at some point, find out what happened to my stuff?" he asks. Pause. "...and my dogs. Fuck," he sighs, putting his fork down and flopping back against the couch, interest in food momentarily vanished and yet another thing to figure out comes to mind.

"Of course, I don't have anything planned for today, and we can do our best to get things sorted out for you. We'll find them, if they can be found." She, hesitantly, rests her hand on Garrett's knee briefly, seeking to comfort the man. "We'll get it all figured out." Perdita smiles, reassuringly.

"But first... you should eat. I'd say you're skin and bones, but you're mostly muscle, I think. So eat some carbs and we'll get the day started once things open up."

Garrett is visibly relieved at the agreement to help get him sorted, even if he hadn't particularly expected Perdita to say no to the comparatively small request of some errand running. His leg tenses at the brief touch, but he doesn't quite pull away, instead sitting back up.

"Right. Food first," he agrees. "Before things open? How early /is/ it?" he asks. "And are you always up this early?" he adds.

"It's..." Perdita looks thoughtful, trying to sort the time out. "About eight?" she shrugs slightly, "I typically sleep in, but I keep having weird Dreams. I'll sleep better tonight, I'm sure. Is there anyone whose number you remember, or that we should specifically reach out to? Parents, siblings, girlfriend, boyfriend, datemate?" she goes back to eating, cutting a bite of her steak and then seeming to remember something, and going for the eggs, first.

"Not that early, then; I'll try to keep quiet if my regular sleep patterns come back and I'm up early," Garrett assures, then gives a sympathetic look. "If you ever want to talk about any of them...." He trails off, the offer hanging in the air. He chews on a mouthful of eggs as he considers people he should get in contact with. "Parents. Sister. Everyone else is local and.... they'll understand if I take some time to get my feet under me before I rush back to my social life," he says before glancing around. "So, I take it you waking up as the new owner of this place is a relatively recent development?" he ventures.

"Don't worry about it. Once the furniture arrives, you'll have one of those two rooms and it shouldn't wake me if you're up and about early." Dita gestures to the rooms across the living room, which are currently empty. "It's just a bed, a dresser, a kitchen table and some chairs for now, but it'll... get things feeling more like a home."

"... mid September? I woke up in bed with some guy, thought it was his place and... tried to do the early morning walk of shame, but it turns out he was in my bed." she laughs and shrugs, without a hint of embarrassment about admitting waking up in strange beds is normal for her.

"If my stuff is still somewhere I can get at, I could help with furniture and stuff, if you want. I had a small house worth of stuff," Garrett offers up, maybe just a touch of hope in his voice. The retelling of the origin story behind Dita owning this building gets a small grin.

"Walk of /shame/," he says, a bit of derision in that last word, a grin and eye roll along with it. "Did I already ask if you had plans for the place? The building as a whole, I mean?"

"For a while I wasn't sure if I was just renting, or if I'd bought the place, but... I checked old texts from the time I don't remember, and I was texting with a friend from outside of town who helps manage my money, arranging the purchase... all sorts of things. There was a huge storm, a lot of damage, and..." she gestures vaguely, "Suddenly this place is mine."

"You'll swiftly find I have very little in the way of shame." Perdita admits with a wicked smile that's probably lured plenty of men to their figurative doom.

"No concrete plans as yet. The first floor has some retail space, the rest is offices and old apartments. I'd like there to be more people, but I'm still trying to sort out how bad the damage is. Some of it's old, from before the previous owner, but some of it's from the storm, so the sooner I can get it sorted, the better, before rot and mold set in."

"Well, at least you bought a place with a habitable penthouse," Garrett offers optimistically, then laughs. An honest, fully human, genuine laugh.

"Of course you don't. Nobody I seem to meet ever does. Awful influences, every one of them." Is that.... teasing in his voice? He grins, finishing off his eggs.

"I don't know if she's still in town, but I had a friend that was pretty handy with home repair type stuff, I can see if she would want to take a look around, give you an idea what you're working with?" he offers.

"No matter how out of character I act, I will always love a penthouse with a view." Perdita states, smiling.

"Careful, I'll have you doing Rocky Horror shadowcasts and bringing home strange menfolk in no time." Perdita teases, lightly, with a tilt of her head, raising her eyebrows slightly, before dining on another piece of strawberry.

"That... would be really helpful, actually. So far I've just been looking things over to make sure there's no broken windows that are uncovered, no dead bodies lying out in the open, no hot half naked guys bursting through previously empty rooms. So far, out of three floors, only one hot half naked guy and two broken windows. We're not counting the basement, though, that body wasn't out in the open."

"Who doesn't?" Garrett counters with a grin of his own, then another little laugh. "Don't you threaten me with a good time," he shoots back. It's almost certainly not permanent, but for the time being, it's all far enough in the back of his mind for him to be a functional, friendly human being.

The summary of how building exploration has been going gets an interested look, head tilted slightly to the side. "So I'm not even the first half-naked bloke to come bursting through doors?" he deadpans. "You really have been having an interesting go of it here."

Another laugh from Perdita, and she shakes her head slightly, "So far, you're the only one. Usually, they're naked." Perdita raises her cup of coffee in a salute to all the naked men before and grins.

"There's all sorts of interesting places to explore here. A basement with an inch of standing water, there's a room on one of the floors that's perfectly pristine, looks like an office straight out of the 1920s, there was a cannonball safe in the basement full of century old prohibition booze that tastes like kerosene... But I'm starting to like it. Even if it is creepy. Maybe I should start dressing in floor length gowns and really embrace the 'hundred year old haunted building' vibe."

"And here I was worried my less-than-modest appearance was going to have made a bad first impression," Garrett says with a laugh, shaking his head as he raises his coffee in return, taking a sip.

"Hmm. Well, if you ever want another pair of eyes helping poke around. Or if there's pests that need getting rid of, I can try to help." The floor-length gowns get a grin. "Lot to be said for running with an aesthetic," he agrees, nodding. "The one random, intact office is kind of weird, though," he muses, just a bit of nervous suspicion in his voice.

One eyebrow raises, and Perdita gives Garrett an appraising look, "Quite the opposite." she admits. Again with that wicked smile.

"Ravn suspects the office is haunted, suggested some old lady ghost who's very resistant to change. Prior owner wasn't... like us, from what I can tell, so he may have just looked it over entirely the whole time he was here, since it was Something Strange. Mundies seem pretty good at ignoring what's right in front of them, or the Veil erases things, I'm not sure which."

Garrett grins a bit at the latter, glancing down at his food briefly, cheeks darkening slightly as he busies himself cutting his pancake into bite-sized pieces, clearing his throat slightly once he's looked back up.

"I could try and give some of the things in there a.... more unique look? It's not something I've done often, but...." he trails off with an uncertain shrug. "Or is that something..... Ravn, was it? Was able to take care of?" he asks, sounding definitely somewhat hopeful.

"Oh, no. He blushes, too. If I make you uncomfortable, don't hesitate to tell me, okay?" Perdita's smile goes back to being gentle, reassuring, not wanting to send the poor man screaming back through the void.

"Ravn was going to take a look at it, he's been seeing ghosts since he was just a kid from what I understand, so if you're not comfortable doing it, it's fine. For that matter, if the ghost leaves the rest of the place alone, I don't care to leave them alone, either. Don't fuck with shimulo, because they will fuck back worse."

"Oh, you're fine, just... wasn't expecting 'flirt with pretty stranger' to happen so fast upon getting home," Garrett explains, clearing his throat, before thinking on the office and ghosts.
"I'm not sure that's quite the same as what I can do, but if he seems to have it well in hand.... I'd just as soon avoid drawing any unwanted attention for a bit, you understand?" he says, sounding slightly apologetic and more than slightly concerned about the sort of attention he might draw if he goes about using his 'gifts' the moment he's back in the real world. "Live and let live seems like a reasonable policy, though," he agrees. "...or, whatever the equivalent is to dealing with ghosts?"

"I move fast." Perdita states, taking another sip of her coffee. "Lie as low as you need to, using your abilities too much gets Their attention from what I've been told, so... it's a good idea to avoid that, right?" She shifts slightly, crossing her legs, "Exist and let exist, I guess. Though... Alexander says they're more... memories than actual ghosts in the religious sense. Strong psychic residue that formed around a person or a thing. As long as it isn't maliciously hurting anyone, I can't see the harm in letting it linger, if casting it out would risk harming those trying to do so. The kid in the basement seems to be gone now that his body's recovered and going to be given a proper burial..."

"So it would seem," Garrett says, a bit amused, relaxing slightly, nodding his agreement that overusing his abilities, especially since he just got back, is best avoided. "Ghost, memory... a rose by any other name, I guess?" he ventures. "That's good. About the burial and all that. Maybe the office ghost can be.... put to rest, I guess, a mundane way like that," he muses, finishing his pancake and shifting in his seat a bit, turning to face Perdita more than his plate.

"Here's hoping. We all deserve to rest, someday, even the worst among us." She smiles, a little sadly. "I can't help but feel bad for them, even if they're not 'real'... and even if they do freak me right the hell out. I was raised in a superstitious family. Like... 'don't leave the vegetables out on the night of the full moon or they turn into vampires' superstitious, and some of it still lingers." a wry smile now, and she leans back, having finished her steak, eggs and fruit.

"Have as much as you want when you get hungry again."

"Amen to that," Garrett agrees, taking another sip of coffee as he nods. "But, you know... Hopefully not too soon," he adds dryly before tilting his head. "Hmmmm, only superstitions I really remember are more along the lines of wendigos and Bigfoot. Northwoods Minnesota stuff. No vampiric vegetables." A small smile of his own as he eyes the bag.

"Oh, I'm sure I will. Just... trying to not let myself get carried away if I can help it," he explains. "I'd like the food to stay down, you know?"

"Lots in my family, but... no Bigfoot, oddly. Where did you grow up, anyway? The accent... hint of... London?" She hazards a guess, turning to face more toward Garrett, her expression curious, now, dark eyes intent. She holds the coffee cup in her lap, knees together, long legs half dangling off the couch to keep her wedge sneakers off the furniture.

Shoes not being a concern for him at the moment, his own legs fully cross as he turns completely sideways, leaning a bit to the side, an arm draped along the back of the couch. "London, originally," he confirms with a nod. "Until I was ten, anyways, and my mum moved us to Minneapolis," he explains. "Professor there," he adds, heading off what it probably a common enough follow-up question. "And then I moved here after college for a job up at Olympic." Pause. He sighs, realizing another thing to check on. "And what's your elevator pitch life story, then?" he inquires.

"Village in upstate New York, about a thousand people, my father was a groundskeeper for a rich family, my mom worked whatever job she could get, but..." Dita shrugs, "It was mostly rich white kids who liked to make fun of anybody who was different. Máma got sick of it, I stated with Báte. He kicked me out when I was a teenager and I sorted my life out from there. Ended up in Miami for a little while, then I just... started traveling. I've been through most of Europe and a few major cities in the US. Live somewhere a few months, get sick of it, move on. I actually came out here back in February just to spend a few days by the water because I was homesick... and I ended up staying." She looks a little embarrassed at admitting to being homesick.

Garrett's eyes roll /hard/ at the rich white kids, but other than that his face is one of listening intently, and he looks vaguely impressed when it's over, nodding slowly. "Well, looks like it all worked out alright for you, then. You taste in company is a bit questionable," he tells her with a pointed glance at himself, then a grin. "But nobody is perfect, yeah?" A pause. "How does someone from upstate New York get homesick and end up here?"

"Oh, I dunno, my taste in company seems to be hanging out in the swankiest penthouse in Gray Harbor, so I'd say he's doing pretty good." The fact that there's probably no other penthouses in Gray Harbor is beside the point.

"I was in Seattle. Plan was to head to Portland, but I wanted to take the scenic route, see the water on the bay... My home town was a bay, after all, and... this is as close as I'll probably ever get, again. Báte and I don't talk, and there's only one or two people in that whole town worth seeing other than him, so... this is close enough, and without all the casual racism and homophobia. One of the first things I saw was a big Pride flag in one of the windows. Found a cute little place called Sweet Retreat, met some friendly locals..."

Perdita shrugs and smiles, "Been here eight months, now. I mean, three of them are missing... but now I'm active with a local charity, I've made real friends... I finally feel like I have a community, and I've never had that before. It's hard to imagine leaving for more than a few days..."

Garrett grins again at that. "Swankiest in Gray Harbor is an awfully low bar," he points out, not unkindly, before listening to the rationale that led to Dita ending up here. "It's not a bad city, if you get past all the Weird," he agrees, nodding. "Good people, at least all the ones I've met so far." He gives his hostess a pointed look and a smile at that last comment before clearing his throat.

"Eight months.... or five, depending how you count them...." Garrett echoes softly, thinking to himself. "Do the names Ash, Sparrow, Nicole, Elias, or Hazel mean anything to you, by chance? It's fine if not, just can't hurt to ask," he inquires. "

Glancing around, Perdita lets a soft snort of laughter escape. "You're not wrong." she agrees, shrugging slightly. The bones of the room are nice, they just... haven't been decorated, yet.

She listens to the list of names intently, absently toying with a strand of hair as she does, thinking for several seconds before she shakes her head slowly, lips slightly compressed. "No, sorry, not in relation to Gray Harbor..."

"The first letter of each of their names together spells 'Shane' but I don't think an anagram helps." However, the thoughtful expression continues, and she speaks again, "Elias. That does sound vaguely familiar, but... it might just be that I know someone who mentioned them."

Garrett shrugs. "It was worth a shot." He doesn't seem surprised that the names aren't jumping out at all, half-smile tugging at his lips at the less-than-helpful anagram. "If you meet any of them, they're all good folks you should absolutely get to know better, for what it's worth," he offers up, watching Perdita toy with the strand of hair for a few moments before reaching up towards his own. "A haircut. Definitely a haircut once I get my stuff back," he says, half to himself, sighing softly. "Ugh, what a bloody mess. Thanks again for.... well, everything," he says gratefully.

"I'll definitely keep that in mind... Wait... Elias... That bookstore... I've never been, but that sounds right." Perdita offers, then reaches for her phone, tapping to bring up businesses, finally bringing up the storefront for Likely Stories, turning the phone about for Garrett.

"It's a little untamed, but it's kind of cute, too..." Perdita smiles again, shamelessly. "We can get you in somewhere for a haircut, soon, don't worry. There's a detangler in the bathroom if you need it, for now, and some really hydrating product for curly hair. I keep waking up from dreams with my curls, again. I've been to get my hair permastraightened three times in two weeks. All the local shops are suspicious now and won't do it again, so I have to use a flat iron if I want to keep my look."

Glancing at the phone when it's shown to him, Garrett gives a nod of confirmation. "Yeah, that's the guy," he says with a small smile. The suggestion his clean but otherwise thoroughly disheveled hair is cute gets a skeptically raised eyebrow. "Riiight. Well, it's not practical for spending your days in the woods, so hopefully you think it's cute when it gets to its normal length, too," he responds. "But yeah, taming it at this length is a good start," he agrees. "Make it a bit easier for whoever ends up cutting it, if nothing else," he laughs.

At the mention of spending his days in the woods, Perdita shudders, just a little. "I hate the woods, especially after I got caught in the trees, got my hair tangled, my dress tangled... went to bed in there, woke up out in the forest in a 35 yard skirt and a belly shirt. I was lucky to run into a couple locals I knew and get a ride home, because it was freezing."

Garrett makes a dramatic show of clutching his chest when Dita says she hates the woods, mock-collapsing backwards, staying there a few seconds before sitting up. "You can't tell a /park ranger/ you hate the woods, Perdita. It just isn't done," he chides, but doesn't seem /actually/ offended at all, if the grin is to be any judge. "Nobody is perfect, though, so I suppose we can let it slide. And.... that does sound like an exceptionally good reason not to care for the woods," he agrees. Pause. "...I'm absolutely going to try to change your opinion of the woods when it gets warmer out, though," he 'warns' her with another half-smile.

"I'm willing to have my mind changed if adequately dressed, carrying bear spray and when They stop messing with my hair." She absently reaches up to run a hand through her hair, as if to confirm it is, in fact, still straight. "They've started having fun with my hair, and... I like it like this." Perdita shakes her head slightly and smiles, "I've never been a huge fan of the wilderness. The closest you'll get to me enjoying nature is sunning on the deck of some rich man's yacht in the summer, or swimming in the ocean. Which Gray Harbor may ruin, with... mermaids and all."

"Hmmmmmmm." Garrett strokes his chin, then gives a decisive nod. "Your terms are acceptable," he informs her, raising an eyebrow at her idea of wilderness, eyes dipping downward, if only for a moment, before he returns them to her face. "I don't spend much time by the water," he confesses. "I can only assume the mermaids around here are... less friendly, underwater citizens, more rusalka and/or siren?" he assumes.

"From what Ravn told me? Man eating monsters. Piranha with tits, one assumes." Perdita tells Garrett, grinning. "Which... conjures a visual, I must admit." She snags a donut and begins meticulously nibbling at it, not even marring her lip gloss somehow. "I mean, I love a man-eater in the mythical sense, they're my greatest inspiration, but I do my eating metaphorically."

There's a snort of laughter at that particular visual, and Garrett shakes his head. "If it doesn't have a more-or-less human top I don't think it counts as a mermaid," he muses, following suit and also claiming a donut, the eating of which is made easier by a lack of lip gloss. He raises an amused eyebrow at the man-eating inspiration, metaphorical or otherwise. "I find myself suddenly feeling just the slightest bit grateful I have effectively nothing to my name just now."

There's a slight head tilt and smile from Perdita, and one brow raises slightly in response, "I'm hurt. Most men would jump at the chance." she teases, tone turning just a tad more provocative, now, before she pauses to take another nibble of her donut. "Though I suppose it just means if I decide I like you it's because of your ample charms, rather than your ample wallet."

A quiet chuckle from Garrett. "Just because there are far worse ways to end up destitute doesn't mean I'd want to /actually end up/ destitute." Pause. "...which I might be anyways, but that's not the point," he supposes, shrugging. "Oh, I don't know how you'll resist a man who crashes through doors and promptly passes out on your couch for the immediately foreseeable future," he comments with a self-deprecating laugh.

"Providing your bills and such weren't on auto-pay, and you had a bank account, you may actually have a bit more money than you remember in your account. Did you bank here in town, or...?" Perdita doesn't look unduly interested. She might have a bit of avarice in her, but it comes from fearing poverty, rather than wanting things for their own sake. "You'll have your own bed, soon enough, don't worry. Then you can be my handsome roommate who I have delicious sexual tension with. But we can't, because... we're living together and it would make things ever so awkward." her tone is playful, now, mock-breathy, though only lightly teasing. It's clear she at least finds Garrett easy on the eyes, despite his disheveled-ness, but is also keeping things light because she has no idea what the man's been through.

Garrett's mouth opens, then closes. Then he tries once more, but still nothing. He blinks several times, unconsciously (probably) giving Perdita a very brief once over before shaking his head. Cheeks once again dark, he clears his throat and takes a bite of his donut, letting chewing give him an excuse for a lack of response to the teasingly suggestive commentary. Once he's done, he glances back towards the empty rooms. "What was your plan with the rooms? Just a pair of guest rooms, or were you planning on using one for an office or some such?" he inquires, turning the conversation towards things less blush-inducing.

Why does Perdita look like the cat who got the cream? Probably because she enjoys getting a reaction out of people, and that was quite the reaction. "I didn't really have any plans. I mean... I'm sure I did, before the... fugue state... or whatever it was... wore off, but... Guest rooms seem reasonable. It's not like I need much space, and Tsinyorri is happiest inside a cardboard box. I thought about gym equipment, but I mostly run, and once it gets too cold for that, outside, I'll go to the gym to keep myself honest." Well. As honest as she ever gets.

Garrett is understandably off his social game, but he still notices how pleased Perdita looks and raises an eyebrow before listening to her answer. "Not to be presumptuous, but assuming my stuff is, in fact, in a storage unit somewhere, how would you feel about me putting, you know, my actual bed in one of them?" Long pause. "...that is super presumptuous, so by all means, don't feel obligated to say yes out of pity or something," he adds before plowing on. "Running, huh? I might not pick it back up /right away/, but I'm pretty sure routine will probably be a good thing in the next week. or so, so if you want a running partner...?" He trails off.

"I wouldn't say no. I've got the space, it's not being used, you need space, it just... makes sense?" Dita shrugs a little, "It's not presumptuous in the slightest. I meant what I said when I said you can stay here. No smoking, no drugs, but other than that?" she shrugs.

"Just... as a heads up, since we're going to be sharing a close space. I've got a crazy ex who's hired private eyes looking for me, so if anyone shows you a picture and asks if you've seen me, lie through your teeth. He's not a nice person and not someone I ever want to see again."

"If you're sure..." Garrett says slowly, uncertainly, giving Dita a searching look. "Not the drug using type. I barely even drink. No worries on that front," he assures, giving a nod.
And then his eyes widen slightly. "...oh. Well. He sounds charming. I'll make sure to forget you exist if anyone comes asking," he promises, sounding deadly serious. It is, after all, the least he can do at this point. "Judging by the private investigators he's not local, then?" Garrett ventures.

"I'm sure." Perdita states, just a hint of firmness to her tone, now.

"Miami. During my wayward youth. Relationship soured... I kind of slept with his son... stole his car... ran off with his wife's jewelry..." she has the grace to look mildly chagrinned. "He had insurance, though, so did I really?" she takes another nibble of her donut. "Well. Obviously sleeping with the son was tacky."

Garrett lets it go; if she's sure, he won't press any further. Especially given his lack of immediately available alternatives. When she begins explaining why her former lover is looking for her, he keeps a carefully neutral expression and, when finished, just gives a small nod, tastefully refraining from any judgment. "If anyone starts flashing pictures of you and asking questions, you don't exist," he says once more, sounding dead serious. He thinks for several moments. "Give me some time to.... hone my skills, as it were, and I might be able to work on sending anyone asking questions on a wild goose chase," he adds, expression turning pondering, wheels beginning to turn behind his eyes.

Perdita smiles slightly, taking another nibble of her donut. It's mostly done, now. Mostly. "What sort of skills are those? Seems like everyone can do something different. I'm mostly... good at moving things." a slight shrug, "Though since I moved here, I've been getting little... I can sometimes tell what someone's feeling, without having to make a guess."

Garrett finishes his own donut. There was barely a full bite left, what with him decidedly not nibbling in any way, shape, or form. "Sort of like the second one, with the empathy, but.... more. Like when we met? I knew you were telling the truth about owning the building," he answers, voice quiet. "And I've heard.... and don't hold me to this, because who knows how reliable this sort of thing is, that you can mess with memories if you practice enough. You know, maybe make someone think they.... saw you boarding a train to Anchorage or something," he suggests. "...which isn't a thing I can do, but it might be possible if I practice. Which I'm slightly hesitant but not entirely unwilling to do."

"Oh, cool, you're like the human version of Wonder Woman's golden lasso! I always wanted one of those." Perdita grins, tilting her head slightly as she regards Garrett. "You'd mess with somebody's brain for me? That's so sweet! But also vaguely troubling re: consent, but... paid stalkers are problematic." The donut is mostly gone, now. "Well, since you're going to be sharing space with me, and are a human lie detector and will notice if I'm secretive, you should also probably know that I'm trans."

Garrett gets a spacey look in his eyes at the lasso comment, then chuckles. "Sort of. To be fair, I really try not to use my... powers...." he wrinkles his nose at the word, "because, yeah. Consent reasons. But fuck paid surrogate stalkers. And I'm like fifty percent sure it's not permanent," he adds. He tilts his head slightly at the final comment, giving Dita a long look. "...okay." Pause, then a half grin. "You're still expected to do the heavy lifting on the flirting around here until I get used to talking to people again," he points out.

"If it's not permanent, I'm more than fine with it. I just wouldn't want to ever rob someone of their free will, you know?" she shrugs a little, as close to uncomfortable as Garrett's seen her. Consent, it seems, matters a lot to her. "Heavy lifting, hmm?" One eyebrow rises as she pops the last tiny bite of donut into her mouth. "I suppose I could manage that for a bit. But if I ever make you uncomfortable, you tell me. You staying here? Unrelated to anything else that may or may not come about. Your boundaries are important."

"It might be," Garrett confesses. "It's not the sort of subject I can consult research journals on," he points out. "But it's not a thing I can actually do, as far as I know, and I won't unless I think one of us is in fairly immediate danger. Reasonable?" he suggests, listening to Dita's response carefully and giving her a very thoughtful look. "You kind of remind me of Sparrow." There's a pause. "That's a compliment, I promise," he adds. "And... that all sounds lovely. Thank you for being such an apparently awesome person," he says with a smile.

"There really needs to be, like... a 'being Glittery for dummies' or something written up, so we can find out what we can actually do, sometime. I've been playing with what I can do, a bit, but Alexander said I probably shouldn't do that too much, because it attracts Shadows. Which... don't sound good."

"I'll have to get to know them, then."

When Garrett thanks her, Perdita shrugs a little, smiling, "I lived on the streets for a while. I know how it is to have to start from scratch, thought the circumstances are different in your case. If I can help someone deal with it a bit easier, and keep them from needing a shelter or joining the folks under the boardwalk, I figure I should."

"Yeah, the general concensus is don't show off or you get attention. But then, you can apparently get fucked with just because, so who knows?" Garrett gives an exhausted shrug, staring at nothing for several long seconds before snapping back to reality.
"If she's still in town I'll make an introduction," he assures. "And yet you still aren't obligated to do any of this. So I'm still going to keep thanking you and making sure you know how grateful I am. So get used to it," he says, wrinkling his nose at her. "You could've turned into a bitter shit over everything instead of turning generous, after all," he adds.

"So far, I've been in the 'get fucked with just because' category a few times. See the whole 'waking up in a forest' bit." Perdita yawns, turning away slightly and covering her mouth, and stretches. "Being bitter is bad for the skin, and hospitality is important. You find someone in need, you do what you can, with no expectations... and you hope that when the situation's reversed, others do the same for you. Basic golden rule stuff, I guess."

"At least it's been mostly harmless fucking with?" Garrett offers, but his heart isn't in it; not a lot of lightness in any sort of supernatural fuckery, after all. The bad for skin comment gets a half smile. "So /that's/ your secret," he muses, but then nods. "Don't be an ass is excellent life policy," he agrees.

"Mostly. A trip down memory lane, some weird dreams where I'm Robin Hood and Ravn has been my Maid Marian, complete with a lovely dress and stiletto heels he can't walk in..." There's a faint smirk from Perdita at that. One gets the feeling she would live full time in heels if she could. "The secret to good skin is 1) don't be an ass, and 2) expensive dermabrasion procedures, fillers and a solid, simple, 12 step anti-aging moisturizing routine." The last one might not be a joke, judging from the set up in the bathroom. There were a LOT of moisturizers of various types.

Garrett chuckles; he doesn't know Ravn, but it'd not hard to imagine a guy trying, and failing, to walk in heels to comic effect. Then he gives Dita a long look. "Hmm. I'm trying to decide if green is really your color," he muses, eyes narrowing. Then he grins and shrugs before laughing out loud. "Oh, is that all? It's a wonder we all don't have perfect skin if that's all it takes," he teases.

"Every color is my color... if I decide I want it to be." Perdita grins, now, "Though if I'm wearing green, I prefer it to be emeralds or silk, rather than... armor and a tunic." she wrinkles her nose, just a little. "It was interesting, though. Everything was sort of... swapped? So it was Perdita Hood and her Merry Women."

There's a soft laugh from Perdita, and she shakes her head, "Beauty is pain. Until recently, I depended on my looks to make my money. Now... I have people renting space from me. I'm a landlady. I've become the enemy."

"...and where does one sign up for Perdita Hood: Women in Tights?" Garrett asks innocently, then thinks a moment and shakes his head. "On second though, disregard. I'm not sure I can pull off a dress and heels," he decides.
The looks as a source of income doesn't seem to be surprising; Garrett just gives Perdita another slightly longer glance as he reaches for a few grapes. "Didn't you say this is the only currently habitable part of the building? That means you are, technically, a homeless shelter at this moment," he points out.

"Oh... I think you could pull it off. The dress, anyway, I don't know about the heels."

At the question of the building spaces, Dita nods, "Only living space is here, yes. But there's this weird office on the third floor that was, like... pristine? And Alexander Clayton is renting that... and then I have the retail space rented out to a locksmith... the first floor is surprisingly okay. There used to be a café, I guess. I found some old menus while I was cleaning the other day..."

"Hmmm, I suppose we'll never know," Garrett says airily, eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. But then as he listens, he nods. "I stand corrected." There's a pause and a slightly surprised look. "...the haunted office is being rented?" He shakes his head. "Checks out for this town, I guess," he decides. "Speaking of living spaces, though.... are any /almost/ liveable? Like, fixable by a layman? Even if I do end up staying here indefinitely, I might be interested in renting a small studio space." Pause. "... assuming I can become gainfully employed in a reasonable amount of time," he amends.

"There's a few that aren't terrible, but I need to have a contractor look at everything before I can be sure. I still cannot believe I bought this place." she says softly, shaking her head slightly, "I think landlords are parasites. I mean... I guess because it's mostly office space?" she sighs, absently biting her lower lip. "You're welcome to poke around as you like. I think most of it's old office space, but I don't have any specific plans for the spaces, you know?"

"I'm sure it'll work out," Garrett offers; Uncertain Perdita is not something he has seen yet, so he just lapses into silence for a few moments. "I'll poke around some time for sure, though, so you're not stuck hearing me all the time. An empty office would probably work fine, too," he reasons, shrugging, before offering a playful grin her way. "Depending how harsh you are on tenants that come up short on rent, that is," he teases, trying to dispel some of that uncertainty that reared its head.

Uncertain Perdita isn't something many people see, and the uncertainty disappears quickly. "We can't have you living in an empty office... unless it's also got a bathroom in it. This place has been so many things over the years, some of them have full baths and showers, even kitchenettes, some don't. I think they were apartments, then separated out?" She sighs and shakes her head, smiling. "But... you don't have to rush to find one, either. It's kind of nice knowing there's another person not too far, in this big building. It gets kind of creepy at night, remember?"

"Oh, I mostly meant an office to use as studio space, not live in. I'm about seventy percent sure you're stuck with me here for a while at this point," Garrett clarifies with a grin. "Bonus points if that office-studio does have a bathroom, though. Beats coming upstairs," he adds. He gives Perdita another long look, tilting his head a few times, before speaking again.

"So, landlady-roommate, since we are likely to be spending some time together in the future.... tell me more about yourself?" he asks. "Music and movie taste? Hobbies that aren't extracting rent from the hardworking people?" The last is very clearly teasing, not serious, going by the wink.

There's a nod that looks ever so slightly relieved from the young woman, as if the idea of being alone in the building unsettles her. Of course, in this town, it should. "Music, I'm all over the place. A lot of pop and dance music, but my parents were big on sharing their cultures growing up, too, so there's a special place in my heart for folk music from around the world... Movies, I don't have a lot of time for, honestly. Or... I didn't. But I love a good caper film, romance can be fun, and... I kind of have a special place in my heart for old animated movies, like The Last Unicorn. Mamá loved that one, and we watched it all the time when I was little." She smiles, just a hint of shyness to it, as she softens. "Hobbies..." she... looks genuinely surprised by that, as if she hasn't thought about it before. "I... haven't let myself have down time in my life until recently. I love to shop, I like exercise. I love dancing. I took belly dancing classes a while ago..." She laughs and shakes her head, "How about you? When you're not bursting out of empty rooms and being devastatingly handsome, what do you do?"

Garrett nods at the first answer; pop and dance don't seem surprising. He looks intrigued by the folk music answer, then, and smiles at the fondness that seems to come with the brief stroll down memory lane. Enjoying dancing is not even slightly surprising, given the musical taste, and he can't help but glance down towards her stomach at the belly dancing mention.
And then it's his turn, and he has to think for a while. "Musical tastes are also eclectic. Some modern folksy stuff, classic rock, newer Broadway, anything written by Lin-Manuel Miranda," he muses. "Movie tastes are boring. Latest superhero flick, mostly. Hobbies, though. Most outdoors. things I'm game for. I go running every day, hiking a lot. When I'm not doing that I'm probably playing guitar and or singing. Or listening to whatever someone recommended. Lot of music. Looooooove music." And the way his eyes light up and his pace picks up the more he talks about it, that's obviously true, leaving him taking a deep breath when he finishes.

Sensing the attention to her stomach, Perdita smiles faintly, shifting her body. The dress is very formfitting, and Dita definitely has a nice figure. Perhaps a bit too slim for the proper aesthetic, but... "Superhero movies aren't boring, they're fun. I cried when I saw Wonder Woman, honestly. The scene with her going into No Man's Land? Gets me every time." When Garrett mentions loving music, Perdita softens, "You'll have to play for me, sometime, when you get your guitar. I love live music... My Báte used to play violin. I tried to pick up the clarinet so I could be in marching band, but... I wasn't very good at it." she laughs again, waving her hand, "We'll definitely have to go running together, though. It's always better with someone to push you."

Garrett may sneak an extra glance when Dita shifts, though the glance is brief; Garrett is very much trying to be polite. But he also hasn't seen another human in quite a while, so lapses are inevitable. "God, why couldn't all the other DC movies be as good as Wonder Woman was?" he laments. Maybe exaggerating his sigh slightly. And then he's smiling wide. "I will absolutely play for you as soon as I get my guitar," he promises. "I wish I had the time to learn another instrument. Violin would be pretty cool. My hands are probably too used to a bigger neck by now, though," he says with a small shrug. Running together gets a quick, agreeable nod. "Speaking of running partners, what's your policy on dogs? Because I theoretically have.... one point five dogs? Assuming I can find them. Hopefully Kelsey is taking care of them..." He trails off. "But I know not everyone is a big fan, or at least not a fan of having them in their home. So let me know and I'll rush the find-a-new-home process."

“Ugh, I watched Batman vs. Superman AND Justice League and all I got was a vague desire to cosplay Wonder Woman.” she laughs.

“As long as they don’t jump on me with muddy feet, or try to eat Tsinyorri, they’re fine by me. It’ll be a bit of a ride to take them out to potty every time, so... we can set up something on the far side of the roof. They just won’t be able to be out there alone or off a lead of some sort, just in case they decide to... chase a bird or something.” Perdita looks a little worried at that last bit. She’s already mentioned her cat going over the edge twice, only to be rescued by telekinetic snatching of her harness, so it’s definitely a concern. “If you can get them back, they’re welcome additions.”

"And here I missed Halloween," Garrett says, snapping his finger, cursing his luck.

He looks thoroughly relieved to hear the dogs, should they be located, will be welcome. "They're basically saints," he assures. "And assuming Kelsey is still in town, she can take over primary human duties for Edgar and then it'll just be Zeus. He's a better running partner, by far." Pause. "He's a German shepherd and will run until I die. As opposed to Edgar who doesn't believe in running. He's a bulldog of... some variety," he explains. "And they're already good about staying off furniture. I promise." He's clearly excited about the idea of getting at least one dog back. "Thank you. So much." He smiles, and it just sort of sticks. "So... Tsinyorri, was it? I'm assuming that means something?" he asks.

“Oh, I was Elvira for Halloween. Got dragged down the street fake boobs first by some trick or treating goblins.” She opens her phone, showing Garrett a selfie from before the demon children attacked. If you didn’t know it was Perdita, you might think it was Cassandra Peterson herself at a glance.

“Eh, furniture isn’t a huge worry, either.” Perdita assures with a smile, “I’m of the opinion that if you have an animal, they deserve comforts...”

When asked about Tsinyorri, she colors, just slightly, “It means...” she pauses. Even though she’s clearly fluent in multiple languages, finding the correct translation isn’t always easy, “Closest is like... ‘tiny one’ but... feminine. So ‘tiny baby girl’, I guess?” A slight shrug. “It’s not very creative, I guess.”

Garrett gives the offered picture a look, then looks back to actual Dita, them the picture again before giving an impressed nod. "Last Halloween-- no, Halloween before last, I suppose.... I was James Bond," he offers up, grinning. "If you think starved, filthy, and almost naked is a good look for me, you should see me with the white dinner jacket on," be says with a grin.

The dog comment gets a small, appreciative smile, that turns into more of an 'aww' expression at the name's (rough) translation. "Hey, it works. More creative than Zeus," he points out. "Although the shelter I got him from gave it to him, not me," he adds.

“Starved, filthy and almost naked happens to be how I like my men-wait, no, that just... sounds wrong... I imagine you’d look great in a suit.” Given the way she’s looking Garrett over, now, she’s probably imagining it quite well.

“I dunno, being the Greek king of the Gods is pretty impressive in my book... even if you didn’t pick it yourself. I’m sure Zeus and I will get along famously.”

Garrett raises an eyebrow in amusement, glancing down at himself as Dita does her imagining, sitting up just a touch straighter. "I suppose there's looser uses of those that make it make more sense than my state last night," Garrett muses. Admiration of Zeus' name gets more amusement. "I mean, he was also the cause of a solid ninety percent of Greek drama, going by the myths, and was awful at keeping it in his pants, so.... maybe not quite the ideal role model, even for a dog," he counters, but the tone is one of banter, not any significant disagreement.

The sitting up straighter is noticed, but Dita doesn't comment on it, merely smiling.

"Well, every good story needs a cad. I'd feel bad for Hera if she wasn't so over the top in punishing the wrong person, every time... though I suppose when your husband is literally the most powerful man, how can you?" Dita shakes her head slightly, "Most men are awful at keeping it in their pants, in my experience. Present company currently excluded."

"Punishing the wrong person is par for the course in Greek mythology, from what I remember. Or cheating at competitions. All in all, not a whole lot of integrity to go around mythological Greece." Garrett sighs dramatically, shaking his head. "We're not mad at you, Greece. Just disappointed." Dita's final comment gets a Look and a half-grin. "I was also mostly awful at it before my, ah.... ordeal," he admits.

"That, and a lot of gay romance ending in tragedy. Poor Hyacinthus... I actually went by the name Hyacinth for a little while before I struck gold with Perdita." She smiles, "Actually, a few of the names I've gone by have been Greek mythological names... or Shakespearean."

When Garrett admits to being bad at keeping it in his pants, Perdita quirks a brow, "As long as you weren't cheating on a partner, I'm hardly one to judge... and even then, I've done that, too... though I admittedly regret it."

"Perdita seems to fit you well. For what that's worth," Garrett offers. "I know how valuable the opinion of a man you've know for half a day is," he adds. The question of cheating gets a sharp shake of his head. "Oh, no, I could never," he says quickly, sincerely, before looking apologetic. "Not that I'm judging! Things happen," he adds in a rush.

"I rather thought so. Which is good, because it's on the deed to this place, so... if I decide I don't like it, we're in trouble." She laughs.

"I was young. I was stupid, and wanted financial security and what I thought was love. In my defense, he was cheating on his wife to be with me, so..." Perdita shrugs slightly, "Still, I learned my lesson. If you've got enough reason to cheat, you've got enough reason to break up with someone." Even if they do scare the hell out of you.

Garrett laughs at that. "That would be incredibly inconvenient, yes," he agrees, nodding before listening to the explanation that's offered. "Hey, you don't have to explain anything to me," he assures. "Plus, if he was cheating to be with you, but expecting exclusivity from you.... well, that's just selfish," he reasons.

"I think I'm explaining it to myself as much as to you. I haven't had a lot of time to just stop and think, the past few years. No, strike that. I haven't given myself the time to stop and think." Perdita smirks slightly, shaking her head, snagging another strawberry. "It's been a lot of keeping busy, keeping moving... keeping company, but not letting said company get close."

"Ah, well, in that case, think out loud at me all you like," Garrett says with a grin, listening, nodding, then grinning. "Except when the company is a stranger bursting from an empty room, in which case getting close is fine," he teases, glancing down at the relatively small amount of space remaining on the couch. Does he know that's it what she means? Probably.

Dita leans forward, almost closing the distance between them, her head tilted slightly with a smirk just playing at the corners of her full lips. "Getting close with a stranger is always fine... It's when emotions start to get tangled up in it that it's a problem." Her strawberry gets placed ever so delicately between her lips... and then she leans back, returning the distance to conversational, rather than intimate, smiling like she knows that was probably a bad decision and doesn't care.

There's a distinct 'deer in the headlights' look about Garrett as Dita leans in and he all but freezes, eyes unsurprisingly drawn down towards the strawberry as he swallows heavily. He blinks half a dozen times when she leans back, clearing his throat and shifting, unfolding and refolding his legs as he recovers his wits. "Right. Well. Fair enough," he manages. Smooth, Garrett. Smooth.

The young woman takes in Garrett's sudden discomfort with at least a little enjoyment. It's not so much that she's a sadist as it is that she enjoys having that effect on most men... and maybe she's just a little bit of a sadist. "Sorry, that was a little mean. You're just... cute when you get flustered." Perdita admits, regarding Garrett with a rare, unguarded expression. "But it's not fair to get you all riled up when you're... recovering from things." Her expression softens, once more.

Garrett smiles a little at the apology, shaking his head. "It's fine. I'd rather not have people be tiptoe-ing around me, you know?" He does not seem offended or otherwise hurt by Perdita's behavior, giving her another little grin. "But I'll warn you, eventually I'm going to remember how to flirt back and then it's going to be game on," he warns, tone turning vaguely competitive. "So enjoy your advantage while you can," he adds, teasing.

"Well, then the game gets really fun." Perdita tells him, toying with a strand of hair as she does. "But I'm always going to have the advantage. I always do." There's just a hint of challenge in her voice, too, now, and that smile is turning wicked, again. "I look forward to meeting you on even footing, though..."

Garrett chuckles, looking amused. "Do you?" he questions, not bothering to hide looking her up and down before meeting her eyes again. "Yeah, I suppose you usually do," he concedes, grinning. "But.... I can think of worse things to lose at, I think," he adds playfully, snagging a strawberry of his own. "I think I need to bump guitar recovery up on my priority list," he adds, tone suggesting he's talking to himself, but volume and pointed look towards Dita suggesting clearly not.

"I don't play unless I do." Dita tells Garrett, tone still playful... and then he mentions the guitar, and she quirks a brow slightly, "Do you think I'm a college co-ed who's going to swoon for the first guy with a middle part, painted fingernails and a guitar playing 'Wonderwall'?" she teases. That was... oddly specific, Perdita. "Because you're not wrong."

"Learn... Wonderwall..." Garrett says aloud, miming making a note on his hand as he does so, grinning across the couch. "I will need to think of something specific to play for you now, though. Something that isn't Wonderwall," he clarifies with a wrinkled nose. "Something only the slightest bit inappropriate," he adds, eyeing Perdita, maybe waiting for a song idea to jump out at him. Or l maybe just taking advantage of having an excuse to keep looking her direction. Or both.

There's a laugh from Perdita, and she shakes her head. "I mean, I never went to college... for that matter I didn't technically finish high school." she shrugs a little, reaching for her drink and taking a sip, then stretching, slipping out of her faux fur coat and draping it over the back of the couch. "Always meant to go back, but... never found the time."

"Well, seems like it worked out for you all the same," Garrett points out, glancing around at the apartment, and his tone seems sincere, not consoling. He doesn't stare as she stretches and loses the coat, because that would be /rude/, but he definitely steals another glance or two across the couch. "Maybe you'll have time now that you've inadvertently settled down, if it's something you still wanted to do?" he suggests.

"Probably not, honestly. It's just a piece of paper. I already know I could have graduated easily, just on the grades I had before I left. Believe it or not, I was a very good student... Except in AP English, but that's because Brantley Huntington-Moore wore tight shirts and his eyes were really distracting." Perdita laughs and shakes her head slightly, catching Garrett looking at her with a smirk. "You don't need to be shy. We've already established that I think you're cute... you think I'm interesting to look at..."

"Fair," Garrett says with a small nod, then a quiet laugh, shaking a fist in the air. "Curse you, Bradley Huntingmore!" he declares with mock severity. Close enough. The smirk and observation that he is, in fact, not particularly subtle, gets a slightly abashed look. "Interesting is certainly one word choice," he agrees, his tone saying it is not the word he would have opted for. "It's hardly fair that the first person I see in God-knows-how-long looks like....." He trails off, just waving a hand in her direction, the accusing tone slightly at odds with the teasing light in his eyes. Eyes that are not particularly subtle in his looking at her, permission all but given for now.

"You would prefer I look like a bag lady, maybe?" Perdita asks, grinning at Garrett, "Yelling at you for showing up in my squat, shaking a fist as I push my cart?" She may be describing someone who lived here, before, it's hard to tell. "I mean... I could go get my make up kit and with the right wig we could make it happen." she tilts her head, dark eyes intent on Garrett's face.

There's a chuckle at the mental image of Bag Lady Perdita and Garrett shakes his head. "Oh, I'm not complaining," Garrett clarifies. As if that wasn't already clear. Do try to keep your eyes in your head, Garrett. AlThe suggestion of making Bag Lady Perdita a reality gets a louder laugh and a more vehement shake of his head. "I have to say, not my favorite idea," he informs her, smiling wide. Then a pause, and a head tilt. "All that pride in your hair and anger at Them messing with it and you still have a wig collection?" He looks equal parts puzzled and amused.

"You... don't have a wig collection?" Perdita asks, sounding utterly serious for a moment, her face looking genuinely surprised... before she breaks into a smile. "I like to change up my look. Wigs are a fun way to do that without making permanent changes. Put my hair up in a cap, slap on a wig, and suddenly I have a whole new look. But I also like having my hair a particular way, and don't like it messed with by outside forces. It's all about choice."

Garrett rolls his eyes at his own lack of wigs before focusing back on Dita, listening thoughtfully, then eventually giving an understanding nod. "Makes sense. Beats messing around dyeing your hair every few weeks or cutting it and having immediate regrets," he reasons. The not being messed with by outside forces, of course, gets a nod of its own. "...I'm not going to wake up to Bag Lady Perdita shuffling around the kitchen just to mess with me, am I?" he asks, eyes narrowed in greatly exaggerated suspicion.

"Bag Lady Perdita twerking outside your bedroom door is more likely. I'm sure I can improvise some padding to make it a little more realistic, too." That's... quite the mental picture. Quite the unpleasant mental picture. "You do remember what twerking is, right?" she asks, playfully, twirling a strand of dark hair around one finger, clearly amused by the image in her own mind.

Garrett frowns deeply at that mental image. "Nope. Not a fan of that at all," he says, shaking his head, then quirking an eyebrow upwards at the question, amusement in his eyes. "I mean, uh... twerking? What's that?" he asks with faux-innocence, a playful light in his eyes.

"You'll just have to wait for Bag Lady Perdita's debut, handsome." Perdita tells him with a wide smile, one side of her lower lip caught between her teeth. She hasn't had this much fun flirting in a while, it seems.

"Oof." Garrett winces back dramatically, as if struck by her words, before sighing in an equally dramatic way. "That could not have backfired worse," he states as he 'recovers' and grins across the couch, a grin that grows a bit wider as he watches Dita nibble at her lip.

The laughter from Perdita is warm and genuine, and she slips a hand down her leg to undo her heels, sliding them off and setting them on the floor next to her, out of the way. She even has a nice pedicure. How is she going to handle this building? "Oh, it could have... I could be really bad at twerking, and you'd have to pretend to appreciate it."

Garrett watches the hand sliding down the leg more than the shoe removal, but the whole action gets his attention either way before he's back to looking up at Dita. "Yes, I suppose it's possible the belly dancer that has made her love of dancing clear /could/ be awful at twerking," he concedes, not sounding even slightly convinced. "But if I were a gambling man, I'd wager there wouldn't be any /pretending/ to appreciate anything."

"I said I love dance, not that I'm good at it." She teases, still smiling. It seems highly unlikely, however, that she's bad at twerking. Maybe unpracticed, though. "We'll just have to see once Bag Lady Perdita makes her debut." Perdita tells him, her smile widening slightly, before she stretches. "We should probably start getting ready to start those errands, though, shouldn't we?"

"That is true," Garrett concedes with a slow nod, then a laugh. "I guess we'll see," he agrees, shaking his head and twisting a bit, eliciting a few pops from his back. "Yeah, I suppose we should. Just give me a few for a quick shower and change and I'm as ready as I'll be," he says, rising and turning quickly towards the bathroom.

There's a wince from Perdita at the pops, "You okay?" she asks, looking genuinely concerned. Worried, even. He hasn't had adequate medical care in over a year, after all... She rises, as well, looking a lot smaller without stilettos and platforms and thick soled shoes in general.

"I'm good, just not used to sitting still that long yet," Garrett assures over his shoulder as he crosses the apartment, glancing over his shoulder to offer a quick smile. He isn't wincing or walking funny, so it's probably the truth. It's uncertain if it's habit or other reasons that has him peeling his shirt off just a few steps before the bathroom, though, torso bare for a few seconds before the door closes behind him and water starts to run.

There's a quick nod... and then it's Perdita's turn to give a lingering stare at Garrett, as he walks off, clearly appreciating the lean muscular form of the man she's going to be sharing space with. "What have you gotten yourself into, girl?" she whispers, before she heads into her room, letting the door shut before she, too, starts getting ready for another trip out.