Rachel frowned as the angel-man tucked in to his meal. See their friendship as "something else?" So what? So what if it was something else? She still didn't know what either of them really felt, but even if it was...it wasn't like they were even doing anything! "Maybe I should just go..." she murmured.
David stared at her. "What? We just got here...you want to leave already?"
The devil-girl glanced at Jeff, but he seemed to have gathered that this was a private conversation, and was studiously not paying attention, focusing instead on his food, which looked as good as it smelled. She shrugged. "I dunno," she whispered, "if they're gonna be like that..."
David was unable to keep from gawking. "All of a sudden you're worried about what people think of you?"
"Well...I just don't want to spoil things for you, now that we've found your place..."
The angel-girl frowned. This wasn't like her at all...and she didn't think that her friend was telling the whole story, either. This...this was a side of her she'd never seen before...and honestly, it was a side she didn't like seeing. Rachel could be weird and exhausting and...kind of upsetting sometimes, but for her to be depressive and quiet? It was just wrong, somehow.
"It bothers you when people make assumptions about you, doesn't it?" she asked, placing her hand on her friend's.
Rachel hesitated, then nodded. "It's...I dunno, sometimes they're right and sometimes they're wrong...I mean, I know I'm...atypical in a lot of ways, but they don't - they're just assuming. It was like that before, too...I guess it's fun to tweak them and see how they react, but...if it's people who want to make a war out of it...that's no fun, it's just depressing."
David nodded. "Yeah...but even if there are people like that, they're not here, not right now. And the other three, they've all been happy to see you..."
"Yeah, but they do come here, it sounds like."
"Well, yeah, but...I mean, you're going to find jerks anywhere there's people," the angel-girl said. "There's probably people back at Hell's Kitchen who would've been picking on me if...if you weren't there. It's silly to let that spoil the good stuff...anyway, if they did show up...I'd go with you. It wouldn't be very enjoyable if you were off by yourself and I was here with them."
The devil-girl nodded, pondering. "Yeah...I guess I just figured now that you have some other people like you..."
David shrugged. "Well, that's cool and all, but I doubt there's anybody here who's anything like a replacement for you." She smiled. "'Sides...I'm supposed to be the shy one, you know..."
Rachel looked up at her, a smile spreading across her face and a glimmer returning to her eyes. "Aww, ya do care," she grinned. "Irreplaceably odd, huh? I am going to get so much mileage out of that excuse..."
The angel-girl's smile took on a little bit of a nervous quality, and she looked for Naomi as a distraction. "Um," she said, "stuff's kind of ready for lunch now, right?"
The angel-woman smiled and nodded. "That it is," she said. "There's the stew you heard us talking about, and Ruth's got some hot sandwiches in the oven."
"Ooh," David said. "Could I have a sandwich...please?"
"Is the stew what he's having?" Rachel asked, nodding towards Jeff. Naomi nodded. "I'll have that," she said. "Smells good." It smelled nice and meaty, with a bit of spice to it...more savory herb stuff than anything really zesty, but still.
"I'll be back in a minute," the angel-woman smiled.
With Rachel feeling better, David's thoughts began to wander. Would there be other people here for lunch? Some of the people they'd heard about perhaps? Or would it be quiet, and they could eat in-
The door swooshed open, and a cheery "Bom diaaaa!" rang out in several voices. She looked towards the entrance.
Three angel-girls, around her age, had entered the room. They were all identical in dress and apperance, which struck David as weird and surprising; it took her a moment to realize what that meant. Was this what she and her sisters looked like to other people?
They were...brownish, but they didn't really look African, as far as their features went. Then again, she was never an expert on this stuff anyway. Maybe this was just how they were in Brazil? She didn't know. Their hair was black, wavy and cut midway down the neck. And their wings...their wings weren't the creamy white of her and her sisters, or the brown that Jeff sported; they were a very light gray that complemented the rest of them nicely. Their wings were folded up against their backs right now, wrapping slightly around front like a cloak, the way hers did. She couldn't quite tell, but she thought the tips looked rounder than hers.
She sighed, relieved. It was nice to see today that not all angel-people were the blond Caucasian "Christmas-tree ornament" look that she and her sisters shared; coming here, she'd had a tiny, nagging little fear that she'd open the door to see another dozen clones of herself, all part of some angel hive-mind she was to be assimilated into. No, once again it seemed that transformees were at least as varied as humans themselves.
David's mind was flooded with questions. What did they think of being a...a chorus, really? Could they give her any advice about living as part of one? Or what about...
...wait. Did they even speak English?
Steven's shower went uneventfully, as she cleaned up for the day, making a point to wash off the thin layer of pollen dust that had accreted, mostly along her back where it met the bed. Absent-mindedly, she lifted and gently scrubbed at her breasts, carefully getting around the base of her nipple-flowers. She did a double-take when she realized she'd done so, but even so, she felt a sense of relief - it hadn't felt like she was playing with herself, just cleaning up.
After she'd towelled off, she paused for a moment, then made her way outside, still unclothed. She was thankful for the hedge around their yard. The morning sun felt good, calming and invigorating at the same time. Her mother was there already, chatting happily with the flowerbed. She looked up as her son-turned-daughter approached.
"Good morning, dear," she said, smiling. "Did you sleep well?"
Steven nodded. "Yeah, pretty well...sun kinda woke me up earlier than I'd like, though."
"Yes...it does draw us to it, doesn't it? But you were up a little later, I suppose. How did things go last night?"
The flower-girl shrugged. "I only saw Ben there, I don't know if any of the other guys arrived later. He was...he was kind of acting weird and...patronizing at first, but when I explained I didn't like it he got better about it." She smiled. "It was...fun. Wish people wouldn't act like that at all, though..."
Mrs. Daguerre nodded. "That's something you're just going to have to deal with, I'm afraid. When people don't know you as a person, they tend to rely on assumptions about what you are, rather than who. And as a girl, their assumptions are going to be somewhat at odds with your real self. The big question is whether they can move past those when they get to know you - or re-acquaint themselves, in your friends' case. I'm glad Ben had that in him."
Steven smiled. "Yeah...me too." An odd little feeling washed over her, and she noticed her mother looking briefly surprised. But the plant-woman's expression turned to a smile. "Oh, doesn't that look nice on you!" she beamed.
She felt a mild panic setting in. Not another change! If she hadn't showered, or hadn't been out in the sun...or maybe it was both!? Hesitant, she looked down at herself. It was...it could have been worse. She wasn't green-skinned, at least. Rather, she had developed a pseudo-blouse, sort of like her mother's. However, hers consisted of a pair of petals instead of leaves, soft white instead of pink and thinner than the ones in her skirt, but of the same sturdy rubbery texture.
And...it was a little low-cut, the two leaves coming together around the sides of her torso to leave a V-shaped plunge from her armpits down to the base of her sternum. It would have been a bit racy if she had much in the way of cleavage, but as it was it just looked a little awkward. Steven felt a bit uncomfortable this way - not how she wanted to go around!
Her mother noticed her expression and smiled. "You can adjust that, you know," she said. The flower-girl remembered how her mom had been able to move her leaves around, and tried to think of how to do the same.
What she found was that there were indeed muscles that could adjust her new petals - ones in her back that controlled their angle and elevation, and even some muscle tissue in the petals themselves that allowed them to curl and uncurl. She lifted her arms and opened her "blouse" outwards, feeling the cool morning air on her breasts again, then curled them back in, angling things so that the "collar" was flatter and higher up.
This, however, left a good bit of her belly uncovered, as the petals weren't large enough to fully cover her torso. Still, it was better than the previous look. But while this didn't take conscious effort to maintain or feel uncomfortable, the lower arrangement seemed to be the natural resting position. Did...did that mean she'd grow into it? She kind of hoped not - at least, she hoped they wouldn't get especially large. It was weird enough even having them.
And now that she had this, another thing that made her look...girlier than she had back when she was almost completely human...really, it just completed the look she'd been moving towards since her skirt came in, but that wasn't much of a comfort. On the other hand, at the very least, she had something to cover herself that wouldn't crush her nipple-flowers. She sighed...could've been worse...
