The view outside the interstellar bus would've been breathtaking, if she hadn't been looking at nothing but stars outside for the last year and some change. Instead, she'd closed the window and sat with her hands on her knees, trying to believe that this was it, she'd really finally left her cell for the last time. She was free again, gods help everyone.
Jack smirked at the ground and yawned, glancing at her pile of luggage and toolboxes to makes sure they were all still there. She should've put it in the window seat, but she'd needed to make sure no one sat by her. Priorities and all. The bus had three levels, and it was a public-transit ship, but it was also speeding away from Space Jail 44222, and that made it beautiful. Even with all the stains on the floor, the seats with knife wounds, and the weird dog-smell.
When she did look out at the void, the blonde woman reflected in the window was a stranger. Her hair was finally growing back, but she still looked thinner then she remembered. Meaner. She'd been friendlier before she'd left the Eastmarch on Solis, but that had ran out like grease from cooking meat.
At least she had somewhere to go. When Trace had first burst out of the light in her cell, she'd figured she'd finally snapped all the way, but having someone on her side had helped her get through it. If nothing else, the tech-ghost would have to tell her where in the hell her house was, finally.
In another place entirely, the House in the dream glimmered with snow and icicles. Although they'd taken down the Christmas lights, Inshabel, Ino, and Wren had been busy cleaning the structure from top to bottom. The three of them were in the kitchen, cleaning around the ovens and the fire pit.
Ino and Inshabel were on their hands and knees, scrubbing the tiles with bristle-brushes and buckets while Wren quietly mopped.
"-and then, we'll of course have a beach day or two. I've no swimming outfits, but the sea of Earth sounds wonderous. I'm only glad I seen our applications for employment off, finally. It has been too long since we worked for our bread." Inshabel chattered as she washed her brush off and wiped the area with a wet rag. Her wooden hands were sodden with water.
"Did you put in your resume?" Ino asked, eyeing her patch and frowning. She couldn't get some of the grease up...
"Oh, yes. I believe I am up for consideration, but I rather doubt the board of directions will choose me to oversee the Hotel. The Kobbers are too important to Earth's ecology and, unless I miss my guess, economy so too. They deserve the best. It was only, the unfilled position gnawed at me. I did not like seeing it empty."
"Don't you want the job?" Wren asked, leaning on her mop and looking over.
"Certainly! It would be a challenge, I am sure, but one I am up to meeting. I would do my very absolute best... Only, running an estate isn't the same as a hostel, much less a hostel filled to the brim with special considerations. I had even heard it drove a former Hotel Manager to madness..."
"Well, I hope you get it!" Ino said brightly, scrubbing harder at the floor.
"Thank you, dear. Oh my, what time is it?"
Wren smiled, and Ino giggled; there was no time in the dream. Nonetheless, Inshabel stood and put her scrub brush back into the bucket.
"Let us hurry and set the table for dinner; Trace and Jack will be here sooner rather than later. I do hope we don't scare her off. Our home has never looked better."
"As long as she doesn't touch my food, I won't frighten her." Ino promised, dumping her bucket and Wren's into a sink before the three washed their hands and headed deeper into the candle-lit house, towards the kitchens. Inshabel had let a turkey defrost most of the day before popping it into the oven; now she had only to make the side dishes and find a few bottles of wine from the cellar.
She nervously wrung her slippery hands as she prepared to greet their guest.
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