even more dumb shit

The Seattle Morgue was perhaps more quiet than usual on the night of the winter solstice, after the end of the battle. None of the staff, no matter their type of supernatural, seemed to want to disturb the peace after tensions had been so high, and after a visit from a very tense Prince.

In a room, secluded and marked 'Employees Only', the lights were turned down low. No windows were built into this room. Though it was officially billed as an employee lounge for the morticians, and in general was decorated to match, it also, and primarily, served as a temporary haven for those Kindred workers who were unable to get back to their own, and the cots lined up against one wall showed its true nature.

However, the only ones on those cots right now, three of them pushed together, were a kine and her two immortal partners.

In the low light, Midnight was able to uncover her face, which was previously pressed into the chest of one of her two lovers. It was utterly bizarre, to her. She barely even remembered the last time she was truly sighted. She couldn't read yet, she knew that. They were going to have to teach her, a twenty-six year old, how to read. They were going to have to teach her what colors were, what /anything/ was. A part of her felt like she should be embarrassed about that.

But she wasn't. Not now.

Out of the unbearable brightness of the rest of the facility, she was able to let her new eyes flick around the room. One one end were some small lights on a coffee maker and a microwave and the comparatively gentle glowing of vending machines. Some little centerpieces sat in the middle of the tables, obviously hand-made.

The floor was a strange puce carpeting while the walls were a warm, yet clean-looking beige. Hanging from a wall mount on the other side of the room was a TV, off. A rack of magazines and a bookshelf with both texts on the upper shelves and board games on the bottom stood next to it, and by the door hung a dispenser of hand sanitizer.

Not that she knew what any of those truly /looked/ like. But if she were to feel them, she would be able to identify them. In her head, she made guesses as to which was which as she looked at each object in turn. But she still felt her eyes drift to those next to her.

In their arms now, Anya was what she saw first. She still remembered how Reva had described her. This must be that bronze skin. That's what this color was. They said it might be pale, so when she was doing better, it must be even more lovely. And this was the raven-black hair, with the iris fringe. On her skin, several tattoos, visible under the thing they had replaced her tatted dress with. She would have to ask what they were sometime. Out there, looking into her eyes for the very first time... that was emerald green. At least, she was pretty sure those were eyes. She had three while everyone else had two. She was sure it was her, because the voice she came to identify as her came out of her. It felt like her, too. Soft. Nice to hold, with the little hidden scars, if she really bothered to search for them. Maybe a little cold, but that was fine.

It blew her away to think about. She had known her only as a voice, or what that Sight had told her, for so long. And as her new eyes drifted to her other companion, it blew her away even more.

Roscoe, she had only ever known as a voice and a sensation. By the time they met, she had sworn off of using the Sight when Anya was around, and by that point, she and Anya had finally gotten up the nerve to get together themselves, so she was pretty much glued to her hip. She remembered that night very clearly. That was the night her leg had been healed, thanks to him. She thought back to when he first let her study him with her hands. Rough, and firm, covered in interesting textures.

She let her eyes sweep over him. Anya had described him to her once. Sharply built, and rugged, she had said. That was what that looked like. With nice, fluffy hair. It looked dark, like Anya's, but... a different color. She didn't know what that color was. And scruff... what was scruff? Was it what was on his face? It looked like more hair. His skin was close to the same color. Bronze-y. And eyes that shimmered like tiger's eye gems... she didn't know what those looked like. And she didn't know what emeralds looked like either, come to think of it. But if they looked like any part of them, they were lovely.

His face was different from what she had first seen when she opened her eyes. She figured it looked as sullen as his voice was. How she wished she had points of reference for that. But she knew why. He tried so hard to fight back his beast. To be driven into frenzy must have been quite a blow to his beliefs and his pride, no matter what happened after that. She could nearly feel the shame coming from him, and wanted badly to say something to him. But she didn't know what, or how to word it. She settled for bringing herself closer to them both.

She was tired, and yet, she didn't want to fall asleep, though she knew she should. Instead, she listened to the quiet. There was some motion from the hall outside, but nothing too alarming, thankfully. There was gentle music playing in the background from a phone someone had left on one of the tables. A slow, calm acoustic guitar piece, that sounded like it was recorded live. Fluffinstuff had left it there. She said she called it her 'anti-anxiety' playlist, that it was full of calming songs, and that she would put it on just for them so they could rest. She liked it. It was nice.

Having seen her was so interesting, too. She looked just like Anya, but shorter, and her body was different in a way Midnight couldn't place. They had often described her as being buff, so was that what that looked like? And her hair was such a different color, a color she didn't know. So were her eyes. She wondered what she looked like in all her other forms. She wanted to see it sometime. She knew Reva had gotten to see it at some point. At least, she thought.

Heh. Reva. The damned dirty liar. She was just as cute as she sounded, Midnight could tell her just from the gut feeling. After all this time saying the wasn't that cute. She sounded adorable, she felt adorable, and now she looked adorable, too. She said she wasn't, but Midnight knew. Oooohh, she knew.

She too had dark skin, like her lovers', but a little darker. Eyes and hair like Ros', but a body closer to Anya's. She was, as expected, down an arm, but the other was covered in a tattoo. She didn't know what the tattoo was, but it was colorful. She was wearing... was it a dress? It looked like a dress from  her frame of reference. Right now, she was outside with the rest, soothing her nerves. She really owed her one for what she did.

This was all really weird to think about. Really, really weird. Sure, she'd wished for her sight back, but now that it was back she didn't know how to handle it. She never expected it, she thought she was going to be blind forever.

She was going to have to learn to read now. Midnight was even a little disappointed about that, in the odd sense that she liked the attention she got when people, and particularly Anya, would read to her. Craved it, she would almost say. She relished the kindness, the positive interaction. From being read to, to just being close to someone. Was that weird? It was weird. Would Marine say anything about it if she brought it up?

Maybe she shouldn't think about it right now. Now, she just figured she should rest, and be thankful that they were all okay.