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Anneliese's apartment in Frankford is on the small side - not surprising, considering she lives alone on a bartender's wages, but still nice enough. She keeps it fairly tidy, too - almost, but not quite minimalist. There's a few pieces of wall art, but nothing particularly unusual - landscapes, mostly, but also a magen david, each line one of the colours of the rainbow flag. A small seating area contains a pair of chairs and a two-person couch. Today she's dressed in just a tank top and shorts; nothing special, but then who needs to get dressed up when you're going to be doing something this spiritually intimate?
There's no sound in the hallway to herald the knock, but then, Teagan commonly travels around town Light-Shy. It's a common thing for them to walk around and not want anyone to know their comings and goings.
Anneliese is growing used to Teagan's habit of arriving unannounced, so the lack of sound in the hallway to herald them goes uncommented on as she opens the door, gesturing to welcome the other Changeling in. "Hey, um. Thanks for coming. Do you want a drink or anything beforehand?"
They tuck their hands into their trenchcoat pockets and shake their head as they wander into the apartment. The Mirrorskin's eyes shift and shimmer, and they shake their head. "Nah. I'm good, but thank you." Teagan offers a slim glance aside at Anneliese. "Just tell me if you'd like me to stick around in case you freak out -- it's not common but it does happen -- or fuck off and leave you to it." They shuck off their trenchcoat and wrap it around their machete, which they unhook from their belt first.
"I, um. Maybe stick around, just in case?" She sounds rather tentative; more like the Anneliese who'd only just emerged from the Hedge than the relatively settled one she's become since. "There's a mirror in my bedroom, if you need that, or we can do it out here?"
At that, Teagan pauses, and turns back, brow furrowing up. "Oh, I'm glad to stick around but -- I mean if you need a mirror -- " And then they pause, and laugh -- the laughter is a gentle thing, a patient thing. "Oh, no. I'm the Mirror, and you will be, too. In just a moment, anyway."
"I do have to touch your face, and change your Kith. It's a very intimate thing, in a non-sexy way, so. I do need your express consent."
"Okay. Um. Are there particular words you need me to say? Or is it just that I do expressly consent to you doing this?" The laughter seems to have settled her, as if she'd needed that somehow.
Their head shakes, and Teagan steps into arm's reach; each thing they do is slow and deliberate, as if giving Anneliese the opportunity to back away at any moment, to call the whole thing off. "No, that will do it." Both of their hands, long-fingered and with those scars running horizontal across each palm, reach up to rest on her cheeks, fingertips smoothing over her -- no, in some imperceptible way under -- her skin.
The Mirrorskin begins to carefully move the mermaid's glamour around in her body, and taps into the part of her that contains infinite possibilities, seeing all of the things that Arcadia could have made her. In this case, the possibility that rather than a mermaid, she might have become a reflection in the water, a perfect mirror. Her skin slides into the same metallic black as Teagan's, and because Teagan only knows how to make a mirror like themself, to an extent, her eyes become the fractured mirrors which Teagan's are.
"There. Now. Take your time with the rest. I'll turn my back."
Anneliese nods slowly, padding into her bedroom before she removes her top. It's not that she doesn't trust Teagan, just that she wants to be sure of what she's accomplishing. It's a slow process, as her shoulders thin and hips swell at the same rate. After a moment, she starts humming intermittently, testing how alterations to her voice box affect her ability to produce various notes. That's important to a singer, after all. Finally, she takes a deep breath, pulling her shorts down slightly and focusing on the thing not even the Brackish King had been able to rid her of. Once that's gone, she puts her top back on, restoring her shorts to where they'd been before emerging. "How do I look?"
The Mirrorskin wanders over to the window and stares out of it, hands tucked into their pockets. Their shoulders hunch slightly, and they sort of rock back and forth. If anyone's ever wondered what Teagan's idle animation is like (Glitch has wondered) this is it: staring out a window, slowly rocking from the balls of their feet to their heels and back again.
When she returns from the next room, Teagan turns their head and curls up the corner of their mouth. "You were always beautiful, Anneliese. The question is, how do you feel?"
"I... you ever have the feeling that this psychological weight you did not even realise you had been carrying your whole life has suddenly been lifted?" Her voice is not just higher now, but also indescribably lighter, more free. "Because I've had that twice in a week, and it is still an amazing feeling. One I do not know how to put into words, even."
The Mirrorskin stares at Anneliese for a moment, and if they could blink, they probably would. "... yeah, I... do." They keep their hands tucked in their pockets; perhaps those hands have just done enough for one day. "Good. I'm glad I can be a part of that." And then they pause. "... what was the other one?"
"Oh, um. Rabbi Cohen - I do not know if you know him, he works in City Hall mostly - came by the other day. We had just been been going to debrief what happened inside the Fashion Show and at the protest outside, but, well. The topic drifted, as conversations do." She pauses for a moment, chewing on her lip. "He reminded me that even amongst the 613 mitzvot the sages have passed down, saving a life ranks above all other laws, and that living the truth of who I am is daily saving my life."
They shake their head a little bit at that. "Nah, I don't know the rabbi, and I'm not much for religion, but... " Teagan tips their chin up. "Good for you, then. I'm glad that you have that, for yourself. I'm -- guessing... that's a bunch of important Jewish stuff... so... good for you."
"It is, yes. Do not worry, I shall not try to convert you if you are not interested." She smiles gently at Teagan. "But I thank you for being glad about it."
"I've had enough religion for one lifetime," offers Teagan, shaking their head. "Mine or anyone else's. Recovering Catholic, and it's only been about a century. But good for you." They lean a shoulder against the windowframe. "So what's the first new piece of clothing you're buying?"
"I..." a startled look crosses Anneliese's face. "I had not thought that far." She admits after a moment. "But yes, I will have to go shopping at some point." A glance at Teagan. "Do you wish to come with me? It is not likely to be very exciting, but I could always use a second opinion on what suits. Even if it is impossible for us to tell which colours look good against the Mask."
A small smile slides across Teagan's face. "That's one of the most fun things: buying things that really fit." And then Teagan rolls their shoulders. "I'm happy to. Gender compersion is one of my favorite things in the world." Another absent shift of their weight. "You could strengthen your Mask, if you wanted to be sure?"
"...I did not realise that was a thing we could do." Anneliese confesses, taking a moment to channel her Glamour in new ways, slowly shifting her appearance from the iridescent-scaled mermaid to just another human. If a rather good-looking one.
And as to demonstrate, Teagan strengthens their own Mask -- a thing they almost never do, but there are always exceptions. They seal away the Mirror and put the beautiful lie up front: they're now a tall, slender, Dominican androgyne. "And there you go," they agree.
"There we go," Anneliese nods, padding over to the small rack by the doorway and donning a pair of sandals, tilting her feet back and forth for a moment to check the fit. "Going to have to replace these, I think, but they will do for now." She retrieves her bag from its hook a few feet above the rack, glancing inside to extract her keys. "Shall we go?"
They reach for their machete, hooking it right onto their belt again like it lives there. (It does.) "We shall," Teagan agrees, a corner of their mouth curling up in delight and amusement. This really is one of their favorite things in the whole world.
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