Log Date: 12/30/96
Log Cast:
	Tance, Kesya
Log Intro:
	Up on Shankill Station, Kesya As'shoriah has made it her personal
duty to oversee getting Tance into better medical shape while his
resonance drops and his broken arm heals, but _also_ to boost his
self-confidence. She's already breezily, and in one fell swoop,
purchased three outfits' worth of new clothes for him, and now, is
intent on proving to him, by getting him cleaned up and into some of
these same new clothes, that he's not nearly as unappealing as he
thinks he is. She's cheerfully hauled him to the dressing room by
the radiant tanks, for showering, after teasing him about thinking he'd
be clean for weeks after a dunk in a river....

----------
Dressing Room
This dressing area is divided into male and female sections, and contains 
  numerous small lockers suitable for holding discarded clothing, cutters, 
  etc, while their owners are soaking. Do not be surprised to see the 
  occasional nude singer walking or sitting in here. 
Contents:
Kesya
Obvious exits:
Out  

Kesya begins unwrapping parcels, hanging the outfits up for inspection. "When 
  we sang green," she reminds you, "We had to dive into this river, by a 
  waterfall. It was /freezing/." She shivers at the memory. "And then we had 
  to dive underneath, to get to where the vein was. You came up looking like 
  someone's drowned pet."

Clearly still pondering the matter of this alledged river, Tance creeps in 
  after you; finding you busily hanging clothing, he pauses and stares at the 
  garments, as well as everything else in the room. At your appraisal, he 
  chuckles roughly. "Skinny as a crowbar, prob'ly looked like a soaked otter, 
  yeah," he tells you absently, as he wanders off to explore the whereabouts 
  of a shower.

Kesya laughs softly at your comments. "Sure," she calls after you. "But you 
  hardly eat anything, so it's no wonder you're thin." She peers at the brown 
  and black sworled outfit she picked out for herself, her smile pleased at 
  the cut of it. Then she leaves that to find out where you'd disappeared to. 
  "Find the showers?"

"Can't afford squat to eat," Tance protests, then appears from around a 
  corner. "Yeah. Here."

Kesya follows you around the corner, her voice echoing off the tile. "So? I 
  have too much, always sending it to my ungrateful brothers." She sounds 
  amused. "So just order from the unit at my place."

Tance starts. "I... I could do that?"

The green-skinned singer holds her towel to her, her expression fondly amused 
  as she pats your arm. "Of course! What'm /I/ going to do with all that?"

Tance lets out an amazed breath, gazing at you with eyes gone full. "You keep 
  givin' me things," he murmurs. "Ain't done hardly anything for you..."

Kesya shrugs self-conciously, her eyes dropping as she leans against the wall. 
  "I'm just lucky," she insists. "I'm not doing anything different from anyone 
  else, it's just luck. So it's only fair that I give some out. Right?"

Tance asks gently, grinning a bit, "You, um, give shirts and clothes and 
  datapads and stuff to other crazy old karkers in the Guild, girlie?"

Now it's Kesya's turn to redden, as her gaze goes to her towel. "Weellll, 
  no..." She smiles softly, "But then, I've never given anything to a 'crazy 
  old karker', so I wonder if I should start. Do you know any?" Her eyes have 
  an amused sparkle to them, head cocked to one side.
Kesya, you can tell, is just waiting for you to refer to yourself as one, so 
  she can argue you out of doing that. She wears a winsome smile, the type she 
  wears when trying to get something.

Tance, naturally, walks right into it. "Hells, you think I'd remember any of 
  'em besides me?" He's still grinning crookedly, though.

Kesya abruptly pokes you in the arm. "I knew you'd say that. Tance, you're not 
  old, and you're not crazy. I wouldn't spend time with you if you were."

Tance's grin doesn't waver, though it does soften. "Awful glad you do," he 
  says gruffly.

Kesya's stubborn frown breaks at your words, and she rolls your eyes. "Trust 
  you to quash my arguement before it even gets started," she sighs. "I'm 
  serious though Tance... you aren't old, compared to lots of guildmembers. 
  You're middle. And you're not crazy." She shrugs, turning to start running 
  the water.

"Feel like it," he mumbles sheepishly, behind you.

Kesya looks over her shoulder, brows creased. She turns from the shower, walks 
  slowly the few paces to you, and tilts your chin up with one hand. "Tance, 
  do you trust me?"

Tance blinks a few times, then nods quickly. "Sure I do..."

Kesya smiles softly, eyes warming. "Then trust me," she insists. "You're /not/ 
  old, and you're /not/ crazy, and you're /not/ ugly, as much as you would 
  like to believe." She adds, slyly, "An old guy can't sail the way you did, 
  or... well, what happened on the claim a few days ago." She winks, "And once 
  you're in those new clothes... well, you'll see what I mean."

"If you say so..." Tance allows, grinning lopsidedly at the innuendo in your 
  tone, and turning his attention to the shower. "Your turn or mine first?"

Kesya holds her hand under the water, testing the temperature. "I'm open," she 
  says with a shrug. "Plenty of hot water, after all. You can go first if you 
  like."

Tance perhaps didn't quite grasp that there are several shower stalls in this 
  area -- not many, but more than one. He just watches you and the flow of 
  steaming water, and nods consideringly. "You go first," he tells you 
  distractedly. Gallantry, or his attention wavering? Either way, he adds, 
  "Water and me ain't exactly been on speakin' terms, I'll hold out a little 
  longer."

Kesya laughs lightly, casting you a wink before she pulls off her towel and 
  steps in. Her voice sounds from within, "What, you think the water will 
  fight back?"

"It might not know what to do with me," replies Tance, raising his voice a bit 
  to be heard over the shower's spray. His tone is almost wry.

Laughter can be heard from the steamy shower stall Kesya is in. "Well," she 
  says, her mischievous blue eyes appearing from around the door, "There's 
  only one way to find out!" She has unhooked the hand-held showerhead from 
  the wall, and now she aims it directly at you. Being you're two feet away, 
  you can imagine the effect.

Tance lets out a strangled yelp, then tries to duck, even as he bursts into 
  laughter. "AIGH!"

Still more bubbly laughter is heard as Kesya disappears again behind the 
  shower curtain, and she peeks out after a moment to see if you're still 
  standing there.

Tance is not; in fact, he doesn't seem to be anywhere immediately in view.

Kesya rakes soaked hair back from her brow, leaning out a bit more to 
  cautiously look around. She mutters something about a 'sly lil bugger' and 
  'moving fast'.

Apparently, Tance has indeed vanished -- and Singer hearing may be sharp, but 
  not quite sharp enough to hear the sound of the water dripping off his frame 
  just around the corner. Especially with the shower running, and Tance 
  holding his breath.

Kesya snorts to herself, ducking back inside the shower. Well, if he wants to 
  be that way. She's safer in here! Shy as he is, he's not likely to jump in 
  while she's in the buff. She continues her shower, dolloping a hefty amount 
  of shampoo in one hand, then lathers it in her hair as she hums to herself. 
  Still though, she keeps a wary eye on that curtain.

It's not _too_ difficult for adapted hearing to keep alert even over the spray 
  of a shower; still, there's not a peep out of Tance, as your bathing 
  progresses.

Kesya ducks under the spray of the shower, rinsing soap from her hair. Suds 
  pool at her feet before being swept down the drain, and the green-skinned 
  singer splashes as she moves about. She pauses, peeking her head out of the 
  stall for a moment to listen, but nothing. Perhaps he left? Frowning, she 
  shakes her head and ducks under the hot spray. Nah... Tance wouldn't just 
  /leave/.

Such a nice, soothing hot shower, filling the little nook with steam that 
  curls, making tiny beads of condensation on the walls. The water continues 
  to stream steadily out of the showerhead -- until, without warning, it is 
  abruptly _COLD_!
Then, just as instantly as the temperature shifted, and a beat before the room 
  computer announces scoldingly that adjustments to the hot water shutoff 
  valve are not advised while a shower is in progress, the water reverts to 
  normal. The computer's scolding is punctuated by a barely muffled tenor 
  laugh.

Kesya yelps loudly, smacking the offending shower handle, but it just as 
  quickly reverts to normal. Eyes narrowing, she peers out of the stall, a 
  malicious smile on her face. "Tance, that just wasn't /funny/!"

Tance doesn't appear to be in immediate view, but his voice sails back 
  benignly, "Then how come you're smiling?" Is he behind one of the locker 
  banks?

Kesya snorts softly, an amused smile making its way across her features. "I'm 
  /not/!" Nice lie that was. She leaves the shower running, ducking out to 
  wrap a towel around her as she pads silently towards that impish tenor voice.
Kesya's soft footfalls are virtually inaudible, her damp feet leaving 
  footprints on the tile. Tightening the towel around her, she peers behind 
  lockers, around corners, silent as a jungle cat.

"Were too. Looked!" A-_ha_. Instantly, you can pinpoint where he must be -- 
  lurking around the far end of not the nearest bank of lockers, but the one 
  next over.

Kesya stiffles a delighted giggle as Tance unwittingly reveals his location, 
  her steps quietly leading her along the bank of lockers. When she comes to 
  the corner, she presses herself against them, impish gleam to her eyes as 
  she holds her breath. Tance must be just around the edge...

"Jade?" comes a slightly bemused call, then. From right around the corner of 
  the lockers.

Kesya remains silent, the sound of running water -- her shower -- the only 
  sound in the room. A playful grin crosses her features, as she waits just a 
  moment longer... then steps directly in front of him, seemingly appearing 
  from nowhere. "Yes?"

Tance jumps -- well, not quite out of his boots, but with a satisfying 
  physical lurch nonetheless. "Jade!" he squawks, brown eyes wide, then 
  widening a little again as he takes in your green form clad in nothing but 
  water and the towel.

Kesya giggles in satisfaction at the startled look on your face, then flushes 
  a bit as you take in her newly-showered form. "Well," she begins slyly. "I'm 
  clean, and you're not. Do you /trust/ me to leave you alone after the trick 
  you just pulled?" A green brow arches, a sly expression on the woman's face.

Tance blinkblinks, and then protests with an expression that might almost be 
  called a mock-pout, "Well, you made _me_ cold, and at least you were already 
  wet...!"

Kesya puts on a scandalized expression, playing it up for all she's worth. 
  "Cold! That was /hot/ water I sprayed in your face!" She takes your free
  hand, gently grasping your broken arm above the cast, and walking backwards
  towards the sound of running water. "If anything, I warmed you up!"

Tance heys, as he's tugged. "Jade, hey, what're you doin'... hey!"

Kesya just casts you a winning smile, staying silent until she reaches her 
  shower, counting on the fact that you always watch her expression when she 
  smiles at you like that. When she comes to the shower curtain, she pulls it 
  aside, and, knowing she probably can't push you in, steps in herself, 
  pulling you after her.

Tance figures out your intentions just before you enact them -- but by then, 
  it's too late, and perhaps he's too astonished to do anything about them 
  regardless. He struggles a bit as the spray inundates him and his tattered 
  archaic shipsuit, yelping out, "Jade?! I'm dressed!"

Kesya's bubbly laughter echos off the shower walls. "So? So'm I!" The 
  now-soaked towel clings to her in ways towels really shouldn't, but she just 
  steers you right under the spray. "Besides, are you saying the clothes 
  couldn't use a wash too?"

Tance fumbles at you with his one good arm, spluttering as water gets in his 
  eyes, and instantly plasters his hair down along his head. But he's starting 
  to grin. "Be damned if I can remember....!"

Kesya laughs softly, one hand patting the soaked undershirt you're wearing. 
  "Well, they do." Just to prove it, she rolls a bar of soap in your hands, 
  and slips it down your undershirt before hopping nimbly out of the shower.

Another yelp sounds behind you, and for good measure, Tance's sodden 
  undershirt comes flying out through the curtain, launched with another merry 
  cackle. "If you like wet clothes that much, Jade, here!"

Kesya yelps as she gets hit in the back of the head with an undershirt, and 
  she turns with a loud, amused snort. "What about the /rest/ of 'em, Singer?"

By way of reply Tance's left boot erupts through the curtain, hits the locker 
  with a metallic *tang*, and drops to the floor; then his right boot follows, 
  accompanied by more laughter.
Tance then calls out, "Can only strip so fast with one good arm!"

Kesya jumps to one side as boots fly from the stall, and warily peeks after 
  them. At your words, she chuckles evilly and calls back, "What, are you 
  saying you need help?"

Tance can be heard to splutter again, over the running water. "Thought I was 
  the forgetful one - I look like a drowned rat when I'm wet, remember? Better 
  off staying out there!"

Kesya laughs softly, padding towards the mirror to brush her wet hair. "Don't 
  be using my words against me, you! I was just /teasing/ you that time." She 
  glances over her shoulder at the curtain to your shower, "And you /did/ 
  suggest you couldn't do it yourself," she teases.

With a damp *flop*, Tance's shipsuit, or at least what's left of it, falls 
  through the curtain. "'Mokay," he calls sheepishly. "Really!"

Kesya kicks the tattered shipsuit to one side, then, after a quick glance 
  towards the running shower, picks them up and drops all Tance's old clothes 
  into the disposal unit at the end of the room.

For several minutes, there emerges from the shower stall no further sounds 
  except the running of water, and once, a muttered oath, perhaps caused by an 
  inadvertant jolt to Tance's broken arm. At last, however, the water shuts 
  off, and Tance pokes his wet head out of the shower. "Jade, I'm -- hey...."

Kesya looks back at you innocently. "Hrm?" She pads to the shower, her damp 
  towel clinging to her. "You're clean now?"

Tance's hair is certainly soaked, at any rate. He agrees, "Yeah... well, um, I 
  guess." Then he frowns. "Um, Jade, my clothes? I know I tossed 'em out 
  here...."

Kesya's gaze slides to the right, a somewhat guilty smile crossing her 
  features. "I did," she admits.

Tance blinks. "Did what?" Then he gets an arch look, evidently taking this as 
  another prank. "What'd you do with my clothes?"

Kesya's expression remains quite serious. "They were falling apart at the 
  seams, Tance." So I threw 'em out. You /do/ have new ones." She brings you a 
  towel, standing with it a few feet from your stall.

Tance ohs, peering past you at the packages stacked a safe distance away from 
  the shower stalls, and the clothes you've already gotten out, all out of the
  trajectory of any water or water-soaked objects that might happen to fly
  through the air at unexpected moments. Then he grins a little. "Oh. Right.
  Um... Towel?"

Kesya dangles the towel just out of reach, blue eyes peering at you under damp 
  sea-green bangs. "I dunno... you're sure you're clean? That was awfully 
  quick."

Tance blinks again, and leans awkwardly against the edge of the stall as he 
  flails out pleadingly with his good arm. "Yeah, I'm clean, c'mon, Jade, can 
  I have the towel?"

Kesya tosses you the towel, seeming convinced enough -- or deciding it's not 
  worth teasing you over. "There's more on the hook outside your shower," she 
  points out, grinning.

Tance catches it, smiles lopsidedly at you, and vanishes again; once, his 
  right arm does re-emerge to fetch a towel off the hook, before he finally 
  creeps out, a towel around his middle and the other draped over his neck.

Kesya has, in the meantime, changed her damp towel for a clean dry one, and 
  she is seen standing in front of the mirror, braiding her hair. "Feel 
  better?"

Tance tentatively joins you, sitting down on the bench the packages had been 
  stacked on, and idly poking at one. He smiles, though. "Yeah. Clean. Not 
  buzzin' so much any more either."

Kesya nods quietly, her concentration mostly on the braids she's putting into 
  her hair. "Well, you can pick whichever outfit you like.. they're all pretty 
  nice." She grins, winking at you. "Better than that /thing/ you were 
  wearing."

"It was a second skin," Tance protests, deadpan. Nevertheless, he opens one of 
  the boxes, slowly exploring it for where it's fastened shut, face filling 
  with curiosity.

Kesya finishes the braids in her hair, and gestures to the electric razor 
  beside the mirror. "You can get your face all pretty again, and then we can 
  explore the new outfits."

Tance looks up, then, before he gets the box fully open, and starts to smirk 
  at the notion of his face being 'pretty'. "Didn't hit your head when we were 
  cuttin', didja?" The tone's gruff, but far less sarcastic than previous 
  commentary about his own looks has been; maybe he senses you're going to 
  scold him.

Kesya laughs, giving your shoulder a pat as she sits down to watch you. "You 
  know I didn't, Tance. You'll see." She seems remarkably confident.

Giving you a look that suggests he's not buying it but he'll go along with 
  this to humor you, Tance gives with it a soft snort. But he also does reach 
  for the razor. Not knowing whether some other Guildmember left the thing in 
  here, or whether it actually belongs here as part of the dressing room 
  supplies, he does at least seem to know a razor when he sees one -- at least 
  after a few moments spent inspecting the thing. Power button, there. Laser 
  output, here. Tance nods once, then settles down to deprive himself of a 
  week's worth of beard, the razor occasionally winking light against the 
  planes of his face as the whiskers obligingly vaporize, letting the tiny 
  laser designed just for that purpose do its job.

Kesya watches quietly, then gets up to pull on one of the outfits she so 
  recently purchased.

By the time the older Singer has returned to a clean-shaven state, his hair 
  has almost dried, and lies now in a short tangled mass along his head, 
  around his face. Tance peers critically at himself in the mirror -- or at 
  least at the results of his shave -- then gives a neutral grunt and turns 
  round, only to find you delving into the clothes. "Oh..."

Kesya buttons the jacket of her outfit, and wanders over to hand you a brush. 
  "You might find this handy," she says with a wry smile.

The sight of you in the new clothes seizes and holds his attention for several 
  moments, before Tance even notices the brush. He looks you up and down, and 
  finally up again, grinning bashfully. "Pretty," he murmurs.

Kesya beams at you, her brow arching as she fondly reaches to brush back a 
  strand of your wayward hair. "I don't look too much like a tree, then?" She 
  grins jokingly at you, giving your head a little pat with the brush.

"Prettier'na'tree," Tance mutters, barely audibly. He _then_ notices the 
  brush, reddens just a bit, and accepts it. His brow crinkles a bit as though 
  this small task of grooming, too, is something he's somehow gotten out of 
  the habit of -- but still, how hard can using a brush be? Especially with a 
  decent length of hair rather than a wild, unkempt mop? It takes no more than 
  a vague glare or two, not even a scowl, before Tance has gotten his hair 
  into something resembling order. Only a single short comma of a lock on the 
  far left side of his forehead refuses to stay put, despite being given the 
  majority of glares.
Tance then gives you a plaintive glance. "I look right yet?"

Kesya is valiantly trying to stiffle giggles at the looks you're giving your 
  hairdo, but she finally manages to sober, taking a few deep breaths as she 
  smiles. "Hrm. Yes..." She chuckles, again quashing an amused smile at the 
  look at your face. "You look great! Here..." The green-skinned woman pads 
  towards you, new clothes swishing with the movement. She takes the brush, 
  drawing your bangs down a bit, patting the sides back. "Mrm! That's 
  perfect." She then gestures to the outfits. "Which would you like to wear 
  first?"

You say "Um... ain't even looked in the boxes yet..."
Tance peers nervously around you at them, as if suspecting one or more of the 
  packages might explode, regardless of the fact that you've just removed 
  perfectly safe clothing from one of yours.

Kesya pulls the green outfit from one of the packages, and lays it on a chair. 
  "Hrm, this one's nice." She does the same with another, the black and white 
  one. "Either of these appeal?"

As you go digging, Tance just stares. Looking at the garments on the terminal 
  screen was one thing; seeing them here, crisply new, is another. "Mine," he 
  murmurs, dazed, trying to digest the concept.

Kesya nods emphatically, moving towards you now that she has the garments 
  displayed. "Yep." She sits beside you, her small hand covering yours. "Why 
  not try 'em on?"
The young woman grins impishly, "Even if you don't, /I/ want to see them on 
  you."

_That_ seems to bolster him, and he grins shyly at you. "Um..." And Tance 
  half-nods down at his broken arm; somehow he'd managed to get his sling off, 
  get his previous ancient clothes off, and get the sling back on. Damp now, 
  under the towel, it's still holding his damaged limb in place. "Guess I, uh, 
  better take whichever's easier to get on...?"

Kesya nods, then says earnestly, "And... though I was teasing last time, I 
  /can/ help if you need it. I promise I'll behave." She says this with a coy 
  wink.

The older Singer's brown gaze flicks from the green shipsuit -- his color, to 
  be sure -- to the black trousers and loose white shirt you've pulled out, 
  and finally back to you. Grudgingly, and embarrassed, he confesses, "Hurts a 
  little."

Kesya nods, all seriousness, her braids swaying against her neck as she moves. 
  "Well, no problem. Both of these are doable. And," she insists grandly, 
  making a comical face, "If you prefer, I'll even avert my innocent eyes at 
  the suitable time." She grins then, and leans to give you a peck on the 
  cheek. "Now, which one?"

Tance gives you a lopsided smile, and adds, then, voice dropping to an even 
  more sheepish tone, "You get, um, you know.." He coughs. "Understuff?"

Kesya pulls forth the named garments from the package she's just unwrapped. 
  "Here you go. You won't need help with that, so I'll just go over here and 
  give you some privacy." And so she does.

And after a few moments, nervously, but clear: "'Kay, Jade...."

Kesya turns back, hands on her slim hips. "So... which, the black or green?"

When you return, Tance has taken up the white shirt in his right hand, and is 
  rubbing the cloth between his fingers and palm, wonderingly.

Kesya ahs as she sees the shirt you're holding. "Black. I like that one." She 
  winks, referring of course to the crystal she sings. "Here, I'll hold and 
  you can just slip your arm through." She unhooks the sling long enough for 
  you to do that.

Tance announces to you, flabbergasted, "Since when are clothes this soft?" He 
  does hold still, frowning consideringly, getting the right arm dealt with 
  with no trouble and the slinged left with only a brusque 'hrff'.

The white shirt shakes a bit as Kesya laughs softly. "Since they aren't worn 
  to death and coated in grime, Tance!" She helps you re-fasten the sling, and 
  then her deft fingers fasten the buttons. "Looks good."

The towel he'd had around his neck now laid aside, you can get a look at the 
  still slightly damp strands of hair just brushing the shirt's collar; 
  there's less grey back there than in front, though you can spy some silvered 
  strands in the dark brown. When the shirt is settled, Tance looks down at it 
  marvellingly, still occasionally fiddling with it with his free hand. "Two 
  shirts," he observes.

Kesya's smile seems faintly amused, as she helps you put on the vest as well. 
  "Gads Tance, I have no idea how you managed to wear those other ones for so 
  long."

"Had to," the man replies, gruffly. He doesn't elaborate; perhaps he doesn't 
  exactly remember.

Kesya fishes out the pants from the package, face placid. Holding one side, 
  she gestures for you to hold the other. "Next."

Tance emits a single little cough, but nods hastily and moves to take care of 
  _that_. This little maneuver eventually gets him to his feet, as he has to 
  get up to get those trousers pulled up properly -- and it's hindered by his 
  continual fiddling with the thicker stuff of the pants, too, just as he'd 
  been with the linen shirt and leather vest.

Kesya's quick motions do just what's needed and nothing more, to help you 
  clothe yourself, and finally you're dressed. She acts as though it were 
  nothing at all, as a matter of fact. But upon seeing you attired, she beams 
  and turns you towards the mirror. "Now, I _did_ say you were handsome, 
  didn't I?"

Tance blinks and retorts, "You didn't.... did you?" He frowns peevishly, 
  trying to remember, then finds himself turned on his freshly 
  shod feet towards the mirror.

Tance(#3209POQce)
This is a man of of perhaps about 5'10" in height, with a skinny, gaunt build 
  that speaks of a long span of time gone without proper sustenance for his 
  frame. He is sallow of complexion, with the look of having once been deeply 
  tanned, and his features now have about them a look of old, faded leather. 
  His eyes, a dark and sullen shade of brown, are framed by lines at their 
  corners that suggest that far too often, their owner glares at anything in 
  his sight.
His hair, a peppered mix of dark brown, lighter sunstreaks, and myriad strands 
  of grey, has been trimmed to a short but oddly flattering style, with even a 
  thick lock in the front to dangle above one eye and give him a more youthful 
  look. His face is clean-shaven. Black pants fall loosely down Tance's toned 
  legs, tucked into sturdy boots of the same color. Dressed casually, this 
  outfit still compliments the Singer's slim frame and gives him a rakish air. 
  A white shirt hangs from his shoulders, loose sleeves rolled to just below 
  his elbows. The shirt billows a bit where it's tucked in, but he wears a 
  stylish black vest atop this as well, the hem of which dips just below his 
  belt-encircled waistline. 
 If you happen to be near Tance, the hair on your arm stands on end. His arm 
  is in a simple cast and sling.

Tance gapes.

Kesya doesn't care if she did or didn't, but that's what she's calling you 
  now. "Well, can you argue with a reflection like that?" She winks, her 
  brown-clad reflection winking back at you in the mirror.

Tance watches his image squint at him, then squints at you himself. "Can't be 
  me...! No karkin' way..." But he trails off. That's a stranger he's looking 
  at. The only thing familiar is the still-gaunt shape of his face and frame, 
  and the grey that's shot through his hair; that hair, though, is in an 
  entirely new, or at least long-forgotten, state. And the clothes, so 
  marvelously clean that they are readily identifiable by their color to his 
  eyes and their texture against his skin, are even more remarkable in the way 
  they fit. _Fit_. As though made specifically for him.
Tance gapes again, this time at you. "I..."

Kesya steps between you and your reflection. "See?" Her question is soft, her 
  eyes warm. "You look /damned/ good under all that, Tance Vokrim. You just 
  needed some encouraging to bring it out!"

[End log.]