Day Six.

Judging currently what was an issue in her life and how she could improve on the situation was arduous. There were certainly a great amount of unpredictable variables to consider, whether Vitruvion would, at any point, give up on his quest to keep her permanently safe, and allow her back to feeling more useful. It made her realise that she was beginning to get bored here, and especially after she had sworn off suicide as an option there was less self-orientated sympathy in her mind and far more dissatisfaction. The very issue that he was fond of her had fallen out of conversation, as he had made clear his desire from the evening of the discovery. Indeed, he had never even specifically said that it should be forgotten as a memory, and Stare was none too glad - although the memory still burned.

What had she then, to bargain with, and what did she want to gain? Certainly, she wanted more freedoms than she currently had - being ordered where to go and what she could not do was another bar to her gilded cage that she did not especially find attractive. Even knowing what plans he had for her, instead of just sending her to some far off place, and lying to her as he had done various times, would be of use. Being able to bargain with those plans also, to be an equal in the general rules that constructed her life, aside from the larger structure of her enclosure was something she had been without for all this time, and it was something that, as she thought about it, she truly, honestly wanted.

She could deal with more generalised changes. A switch to business perhaps, an alteration in circumstance, such as the household which she was controller of, and even a decision to move home - those were all simple things that she felt she could endure through. But currently there were not enough freedoms to satisfy her. There were also the underlying issues of her being his thrice-cursed-Ansaldo property, as well as being linked to his mind. Even though she could bare them, and had been baring so far, it was uncomfortable to consider them, especially, most primarily, the former.

She also knew that she would never want to lie intimately with another person again, most especially not him. Not currently, anyway. The very idea of sex was, right now, sickening to her, even though she had minorly enjoyed the temptations of the flesh with demons. Most definitely she neither wanted, nor needed it.

Arms folded across her chest she sat in the corner of what had become her sofa, still surrounded by blankets but no longer buried. Her legs were drawn up beneath her, her wings were folded perfectly neatly, and she had her beak resting on the back of the sofa, so she huffed into the air as she thought all of this. Vitruvion throughout the day had been working on what was apparently now a treatise, taking pages and rearranging and rewriting them as light and small smiles crept across his face.

Clearly he was absorbed, as a new layer of understanding or some such was coming into his mind. She knew he was highly intelligent, and had a great comprehension of the ways life and the stars worked, yet apparently had used these past few days to come to some form of new discovery. His pencils worked fluidly to build images of structures she could only describe as ‘wiggly,’ and had no idea what all those words meant. ‘Acidum,’ ‘biologia,’ and ‘duplex helix’ were not within her vocabulary.

“Sir?” came a polite knock.

“Mmm,” Vitruvion waved a hand and the door slipped open.

Zulon’s face appeared, bearing a tray filled with sumptuous steaks, what seemed like potatoes and a salad. Stare blinked at him from her view of the back of the sofa, and he smiled briefly, looking more satisfied at her appearance. Behind him there were again faces peering in, and Stare wondered what rumours were currently running rampant through the Hollow. Certainly some of interesting context for them to work with, as likely the story of what had occurred in the theatre had in some way been translated into the workings of the guards.

Shutting the door as fast as he could, Zulon came into the room and headed right over to Vitruvion. He held out a meal to him, extending an arm. The god pushed his manuscript carefully to the side before taking it, and quietly made a comment. Zulon nodded once, then turned to head over to Stare, and, surprisingly, extended the plate towards her. For the first time in several days.

Lifting her beak from the sofa back she blinked at him, tilting her head. “My lady,” Zulon said quietly. Lowering her brow she slowly unfolded her arms and began to curl fingers around the plate. It was the first time he had ever used that instead of, ‘Miss,’ and she wondered precisely what Vitruvion had said. Taking the food onto her lap she simply mumbled a reply.

“Thank you.”