[open] mourning becomes her

[ohmaiden]

Here, in the kitchen, sits a morose-looking young woman, dressed in black. She sits, sipping tea silently

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[wishson]

11-12 wanders into the kitchen, looking quite pensive himself.

He pauses when he sees the young woman there. "Oh, I'm sorry," he notices her demeanor and clothing and hesitates to ask, "Are you all right?"

[ohmaiden]

"I'm all right," she says softly.

[wishson]

"Um. I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you. I won't be a moment," he goes to the cupboards and starts looking around.

[ohmaiden]

"What're you doing?" she asks, turning to watch him.

[wishson]

"I'm just looking for something to eat...," he says a bit sheepishly. "Or drink."

[ohmaiden]

"...Oh," she replies. "Would you like some tea, maybe? It was just boiled." She points to the kettle.

[wishson]

He wasn't even sure what he felt lik having so the tea sounded good for the moment. He nods and joins her, getting a cup. "Thanks," he glances at her, unsure what to say.

[ohmaiden]

"You're welcome." She attempts a small smile.

[wishson]

"What's your name?" He asks a little tentatively. "I'm 11-12."

[ohmaiden]

"...11-12? Why is your name a number? And um, I'm Iphigenia."

[wishson]

He frowns slightly. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? It's just my name. Everyone at the Village has numbers for names. It's normal."

[ohmaiden]

"...The Village?"

[wishson]

"Yes. That's where I'm from."

[ohmaiden]

"Oh. Strange." She takes a sip of her tea.

[wishson]

"If I try to explain it you'll think it even stranger," he sighs and also sips his tea.

[ohmaiden]

She sighs. "Perhaps."